


Finding Immortal

by surelysaiyangood



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Android Saga, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Planet Namek, Saiyans, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-25 18:32:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 181,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14983091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surelysaiyangood/pseuds/surelysaiyangood
Summary: Vegeta has three months to himself after finishing his missions early. Calculating a nearby planet that has an interesting power level, he sets his courses for a rock called Earth. When he finally arrives to find that Goku has already died of a heart virus, he learns about the Dragonballs and his plans change. What happens when he kidnaps Bulma to help track them down? Will they be successful, or will unexpected circumstances change his plans again? AU / Slow Burn





	1. A Change of Plan

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to have a go at writing an AU for some time, and I'm finally going to give it a try. I woke up this morning with this plot in my head, I am not sure how long my inspiration will last, but I've been having fun with it. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 

_An entire day had been wasted, and Vegeta wasn't happy._

Curled within the leafy limb of a tree, he was completely hidden as he watched the dome-shaped building that was 70 meters away. He had recently started the project of analyzing planets during his _"off"_ time. Of course, Frieza never really allowed much _"off"_ time, but Vegeta had mastered the art of purging long ago. He'd just completed four missions in the time it took most of his subordinates to finish _one_ , and he now had about three months to scope out planets before they expected him back at the base.

Oh, yes, Vegeta _loved_ scoping out planets. He needed to find the perfect one that he would set as his own base when he finally was able to overthrow Frieza. He'd studied several by now, but never had he really put much thought into _Earth._ Earth, in particular, hadn't interested him initially. It was mediocre at best. It had water, which was a requirement for the warm blooded saiyan, but there were _plenty_ of planets that could provide _that._ The air on Earth was putrid. Overridden with methane and carbon dioxide, the sky of this world was clearly starting to turn grey. It was disgusting, and it left a terrible taste in Vegeta's mouth when he inhaled too quickly. Evidently the creatures native to this world weren't capable of taking much care of it. It was easy to tell – this atmosphere had once been stunningly clean, and it was going to waste while the inhabitants seemed to be doing absolutely nothing about it.

The thing that had worked in making the saiyan decide to set his courses for Earth was the power level he picked up on his pod's radar. There were a few entities that stood out from the rest – only a handful – but there was _one_ in particular that caught his interest. As he watched the readings on his radar he remembered that a saiyan infant had been sent to this quadrant long ago. This surely must have been the one. He'd failed miserably at his mission, but Vegeta didn't exactly care about _that_ \- _fuck Frieza, and fuck his rules!_ What he wanted was to see what the hell the mystery saiyan been doing all this time, and perhaps partake in a challenging fight.

And so he had dialed the coordinates into his pod and set off. It was going to take an entire day out of his precious time just to reach the planet, but he figured it might be worth it if he would at least have some fun. What a letdown it was, then, when Vegeta traced the saiyan to this spherical house just as the power level disappeared. "Great!" He growled, climbing into the tree and glaring at the hut in front of him. He clicked a button on his scouter to refresh it, attempting to zero in on the ki, but to no luck. "I come all the way out here just for him to die before we meet!"

_An entire day wasted._

Seething at his predicament, Vegeta leaned back in the tree and growled. It was just his luck that the only reason he came to this disgusting rock of dirt would suddenly croak! He should have just gone to Zausine, like he had originally planned. He clicked the button on his scouter again. A couple of the individuals who had higher than normal readings were in that house, and evidently they were still alive. "Perhaps I'll just wait for them." He muttered through his teeth. It wouldn't be anything like battling another saiyan, but at least it would be _something._

And so he waited, bent up in the tree, watching for the right time to make his move. An hour must have passed before the door finally flew open, and out stepped three people. Vegeta began to lean forward, watching the numbers on his scouter. The two men were the ones he'd noted, and even with their readings he would still have to hold back to keep from killing them right away. The woman between them was even weaker. He decided to he'd let them step out further from the house before making his move – the longer he waited before ambushing them, the louder their screams of shock would be. He didn't care much for terrorizing the woman, but he was looking forward to punching the men to blow off some steam. As the figures moved closer to the tree he sat in, he began to hear their conversation, and it was enough to jolt his ears.

"You have to do it. I'll go with you. You won't be in any danger."

"No, Yamcha! We can't!" Bulma replied. "You _know_ we can't!"

"But come on! The dragonballs are our only hope! We gotta at least try!"

"Yamcha, just stop! You're making me feel even worse!"

"Any wish, B. He can grant _any_ wish. There's no way he can't bring Goku back!"

"He can't revive anyone who's died of natural causes, and you _know it!_ "

"He didn't die of old age, Bulma! He was younger than you and I!"

Bulma shook her head. She'd finally been able to get a grip of herself before leaving the house, and now she was sobbing all over again. Her mind was already whirling enough at it was with the shock that her best friend was dead. Yamcha didn't need to add to it. He meant well, but it was futile, and all it was doing was rubbing things in. "I know he was young, but you can die of natural causes even if you aren't old!" She snapped. "He had a heart virus! Diseases _are_ natural causes, you idiot!"

"Well, I don't think it is! And I'll bet the dragon will take my side!" Yamcha shot back. "Now go get your tracker so we can find them. We're going to _at least_ try!"

That was it. She just couldn't take it anymore! Bulma pointed a finger, readying herself to tell the Z-Fighter to just _shut up_ for a second, but she suddenly could hear the rustling of trees behind her. A quick second later she heard what sounded like something heavy falling to the ground, and she looked over her shoulder to see what had just happened. Her mouth dropped open, blue eyes glistening with residual tears.

There was a man – a beautiful, terrifying man – coming right for them. Something about him was making her uneasy. They were in too rural of a location for this stranger to just be randomly approaching them – he had to have been there for a reason. And if his unusual clothing and face gear wasn't enough to put her on edge, his facial expression certainly did it.

"Uh…" Krillin, who had been silent up until that point, started. "Hi there. Can we… help you?"

Vegeta's attention had already been focused on him. Of the two men, the short one had the lowest of the readings. Get rid of him first, and then take on the other. Without replying the saiyan broke into a charge so fast that he disappeared from view, reappearing right in front of them less than half a second later. He grabbed the short one by the scruff of his shirt and flung him to the side, not even bothering to watch as Krillin flew straight through three trees that exploded on contact. It was when he hit the side of the mountain that he finally dropped, his body creating a small crater where he landed.

" _Krillin!"_ The woman screamed, jumping back.

"Tell me what you know about those dragonballs." Vegeta barked. "Is it true that they will grant any wish?"

Her mouth was hanging open as she stared at him with a dumb expression, her throat trembling as she searched for words. Before she could reply she was pulled back, and the taller man stepped in her place. "Run." He said.

"Yamcha…" The woman quivered, sounding as if she would pass out.

"Go on, Bulma! Get out of here! _We're counting on you!"_

She didn't have to be told a third time, turning and fleeing into the woods as the man fell into a pose. "I don't know who you are," He said. "But you don't have the element of surprise to your advantage anymore, like you did with Krillin."

" _Surprise?_ " Vegeta smirked. "I don't need that to win. You will tell me about the dragonballs, or you'll soon end up like your weak companion. And once I finish you, I'll be after that gorgeous girl." Even as he spoke the saiyan was tracking the woman's power level in his reader, watching the exact trail she used as she ran. She wasn't very quick on her feet, and he'd catch up to her with no effort at all. Vegeta didn't really expect to get much out of this scar-face in front of him. From what he'd deduducted, the woman was the one who would be most reliable with her information. Not only did she seem to understand the workings of the dragonballs better than this man seemed to, but apparently she had means of locating them as well.

"Come on!" The scar-face was yelling now. "You getting' scared or somethin'?!"

"Tell me what you know…" Vegeta grinned. "I don't usually bother with warnings. You should consider yourself lucky."

"I'm not telling you _shit!_ " The man yelled. He jumped then, throwing a fist at Vegeta's face, but the saiyan stepped to the side and whirled around him. Yamcha looked over his shoulder with a gasp, just in time to see as Vegeta slammed an elbow into his neck. He heard a crackling noise, a deep sting of pain shooting down his core.

"Tell me what you know!" The saiyan growled as the Z-Fighter fell to his knees. Yamcha was groaning, trying to find the will to stand up, but he couldn't even feel his legs. Who _was_ this guy, and where had he come from? The Z-Fighter had hardly been able to withstand him at all! As he coughed up a ball of blood, he just hoped he'd given Bulma enough time to make her escape. "Screw…" He breathed. "…You…"

"Fine." Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Your decision."

.

Bulma could feel her bare legs scraping as she moved as quickly as she could through the brush of the forest. She couldn't help but think that she probably would have worn something other than shorts if she'd known she'd be fleeing for her life that day. She'd seen what the stranger had done to Krillin – so powerful and effortless – and she knew that Yamcha didn't stand much of a chance either. Hell, even _Yamcha_ knew that Yamchca didn't stand a chance!

 _We're counting on you_ – his last words to her – replayed in her mind as her ankle turned over a tree root, and she went crashing into the dirt. Bulma was all too aware of what Yamcha was counting on her to do – she really _would_ need to find the dragonballs now. With a wince of pain, she managed to pull herself back to her feet, and she looked over her shoulder. The man had moved so quickly that there was no way she'd make it if she tried to get in her plane in front of him. But now she was deep enough in the woods, where he couldn't even see her. As long as she could get in the air without him noticing, she'd make it.

Bulma was just about to throw her plane's capsule when she felt a jolt in her back. Her injured ankle turned again, and she went tumbling down into the ground again with a screech. On her stomach, she looked up to see the stranger standing above her – she hadn't even heard him approach! Her mouth dropped open as she panted with anxiety, her eyes locked with his as she lay motionless. She knew there was no point in trying to get away. She'd seen what he was capable of, and if she made any wrong moves he would easily make her his next victim.

"I don't want to use force, Woman, but I will if I have to. I want you to answer me. Are there really dragonballs that will grant any wish."

She couldn't even find words. Feeling useless, all she could do was nod.

He smirked. "That's all I needed to know."

A moment later and his gloved hand was wrapped around her wrist, tugging her to her feet. The force of his action was so strong that she let out a scream, feeling as if her arm would pop out of its socket. It was enough to bring the words back. " _Ouch, ouch, ouch!_ " She wailed, obediently standing as he pulled. " _Careful!_ You don't have to be so rough! You're going to break my arm!"

" _This_ is enough to break your arm? You really _are_ weak." He replied, giving her a tug now that she was on her feet. "Come on. You're going to take me to the dragonballs."

"It's not that easy!" Bulma replied, trying not to limp as she took a step with her injured leg. "I said they'll grant your wish, but I didn't say I have them! They're scattered all over the planet - you have to track them down!"

"How many are there?" He was pulling her forward, whether she was limping or not.

" _Stop!_ " She squeaked, unable to take the pain radiating in her leg any more. "I'm hurt! I need a second!"

"You're going with me until we get these dragonballs, Woman." He said, ignoring her protests as she wailed. "I'm going to hold you to your word."

It wasn't until they were out of the woods that he finally let go of her arm, and she dropped back to the ground with a whimper as she clutched her throbbing ankle. Vegeta pressed a button on his scanner to power it off. It wasn't typical of anybody to try and communicate with him unless there was some type of emergency going on, and Vegeta would normally leave his scanner running to keep the base from getting suspicious about his actions. But he was going to have his wish granted now, so _fuck them_ if they got suspicious! Without his scanner running they wouldn't be able to track his location, and he wasn't going to let any of those assholes find him before he was ready.

"Get up." He growled, turning to look back down at the girl below him.

"Look." Bulma sniffled, trying to keep from crying. "I can't find them by myself. I need to go home first and get my equipment. I don't just carry it around with me everywhere I go."

"You've seen what I am capable of?" Vegeta growled, shooting her a threatening glare.

Bulma nodded.

"You know I can rip you in half with a single finger if you try to cross me?" He continued.

She nodded.

"You know that I've already analyzed the power readings of this entire planet, and there isn't a single person that can save you, so you might as well not even try to run?"

She tried to hide her surprise as his words registered. It didn't take a genius to see this man was much stronger than anybody she'd ever encountered, other than Goku, but she hadn't expected him to be an _alien._ Trying not to gulp, Bulma nodded again.

"Perhaps you're fairly smart, after all." Vegeta scoffed. "Fine. We will retrieve your equipment. Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Should I continue with it? Please don't be too harsh in the comments, this is my first attempt at an AU, so I'm nervous! Haha, that being said, any constructive criticism is really appreciated!


	2. Now or Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read/commented, and encouraged me to continue with this story. As a special thanks, I am posting Chapter 2 already. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 

There was a throbbing in her leg, but Bulma managed to push herself back to her feet without letting out a sound of discomfort. "Take us to your equipment!" Vegeta was barking, growing impatient of having to repeat himself. "Enough with your procrastination!"

"I'm not _procrastinating_ , I'm in pain!" She shot back with a huff. For a moment she had forgotten that she was terrified of this man. Thinking that he wouldn't do her any significant harm if he needed her for the dragonballs, her fear was starting to transition into indignance.

For someone that had just watched him kill her friends, was chased into the woods before being dragged out, clearly had an injury (though it was minor), and was being threatened with her life, this Woman sure gave a lot of lip. Vegeta was almost amazed at her gall, but it wouldn't do to have someone being so mouthy during this mission. At this rate he'd be lucky to retrieve the dragonballs before his three months ran out, and then there would be a search warrant put out for him. There was no time for this! He grabbed her shoulder and swung her around so her back was pointing at him, forcing one arm behind as he squeezed. Bulma let out a choke – perhaps she'd been too rash in deciding he wouldn't hurt her - it was the same arm he'd been tugging before, and now he was holding it in an unnatural position against her shoulder blades. All she could do was breathe in agony, afraid that if he pushed it any higher up it would _really_ snap this time. "I told you I would use force if I have to." He was hissing in her ear, and she gulped. "Quit stalling and take us to your transportation device. I don't want any more lip from you, _understand?_ "

Her instinct was to yell something back about how rude he was being, but this time she thought before speaking. It took her a moment, but Bulma finally nodded, and as soon as she did she was on the ground again from the sudden release of pressure. "You fall too much." He snapped, taking a step back. "How pathetic."

She ignored his taunts and pulled the capsule out of her pocket, throwing it before even climbing back to her feet.

" _Interesting…"_ She heard him mutter, and he was already heading towards the plane before Bulma was even standing. She moved as quickly as she could to the driver's side, pulling herself into the seat and clicking on her safety belt. Vegeta was already seated next to her. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and counting to ten, and then turned to look at him. He had been glaring at her, and when they made eye contact he deepened his scowl. "Remember-" He began.

"I'm not going to do anything stupid. You don't have to tell me again." She cut in, shaking her head as if to dismiss him. She didn't need to hear his spiel right now - there were other matters on her mind. "Look, I'll take you to my equipment, it's just…"

Vegeta was more shocked than he cared to admit. Here she was again, giving him lip even though she was clearly outranked. He grit his teeth and turned to break eye contact. But how could he get her to learn her place? It wouldn't do to strike her in order to make a point. She was incredibly weak, and he needed her to get the dragonballs. "It's just _what?!_ " He barked, growing frustrated.

Bulma jumped from the boom of his voice, letting out a small squeak. "It's just..." She trailed. She wasn't really sure how to quite word this, but she needed to do it. "The equipment is at my house… and, well… I don't live alone."

"Oh?" The saiyan crossed his arms. He was about to shoot her another threat, but she continued before he had the chance to start.

"It's my parents. Please… I'll do what you want me to, but _please."_ Bulma clamped her eyes shut as she spoke. If he said anything about harming them, she wouldn't allow it. She would let him beat her to a pulp if he was going to, but she would not take him to get the dragon radar if her parents would be risked. Flinching in anticipation of his response, she continued. "Promise me - I just don't want them to get hurt. Plea-"

"Oh, shut up with your groveling! If they don't get themselves involved in the matter, I'll spare them!" Vegeta spat, turning back to glare at her. "I don't have time to make unnecessary casualties. You've wasted enough as it is!"

The terrified gleam in her eyes was momentarily lulled with relief, and she nodded. She knew that he could very easily be lying to her, but at this point his words were all she had to dull the anxiety that was building in her chest. Choosing to lean towards hope that he would stick to what he said, Bulma took in a deep breath and powered on her plane. She clicked a few buttons and pulled down on a lever, preparing her engines for takeoff. Her captor seemed satisfied that she was finally doing what was asked of her, and he leaned back into his seat without another word.

.

The duration of the flight was in silence and the Bluehead found herself glancing over at her abductor several times to see if he'd fallen asleep, but he was just staring grimly out the window with his arms crossed. Thinking that the situation would turn out best if she managed to remain calm, Bulma used the quiet of the ride to catch her breath, trying to clear her mind and ward off the feeling of impending doom. _'This is just like any flight home'_ She thought, counting to five before taking in another deep breath. _'Just a long flight home…'_

As soon as the plane landed with a thud, and before Bulma could unfasten her safety belt, there was a hand on her shoulder. She felt as his fingertips slid down her arm, her eyes widening. _'Oh, no!'_ She thought in horror. Not only was this man a murderer – he was a pervert, too! She took in a deep breath, getting ready to slap his hand away once it reached her thighs, but it never did. Instead she felt something warm around her wrist, and she looked down to see a loop of gold hanging from it. "Hey – _what?_ "

"Don't forget, _Woman._ " He was growling. "One bad move, and I'll butcher you all."

"Hey! You promised!" Bulma began, indignation once again taking the place of fear.

"Shut up!" An elbow prodded her in the side. "I said I wouldn't do anything if they don't intervene!" _What was with this girl?_ How was it that she could be visibly trembling from his voice in one moment, and then yelling back the next?

"Fine, but stop touching me like that! You're going to give me bruises!" Bulma scowled, anger bubbling at the idea of being lied to. "I told you I understand the situation, so back off!" With that she unbuckled her seatbelt and kicked open the plane door, dodging out of his reach. _"And you!"_ She continued, slamming the door shut and turning to point a finger at Vegeta, who was now standing behind her. " _You'd_ better stop threatening me every two seconds and start acting normal, or we'll both get found out! You think my parents won't get suspicious when you tell me you'll murder me in front of them?! Think again!"

The saiyan responded by balling his hands into fists, a growl eliciting from his throat. She could see color coming to his cheeks, a vein starting to form in his forehead. It was clear that he knew she was making a good point, and she threw her hair over her shoulder for effect. "That's right!" She huffed, turning on her heel and making her way to the entrance of her home. Grumbling under his breath about _Earth scum_ , Vegeta followed.

The woman's house was nearly as big as Frieza's ship had been, but it was much brighter and filled with floral scents. Vegeta was surprised at the size of it – of all the planets he'd been on, only the elite lived in such buildings. Looking around, he followed closely behind as she led him through the house. He had to admit that he was caught off guard when they passed a robot wearing an apron. "Good. Morning. My lady." The robot crowed, monotone and slow, turning to greet them.

"Hello, Berthy." The Bluehead replied, waving a careless hand as she walked. Berthy responded by lifting a metal arm, rigidly waving a feather duster as they passed.

Vegeta was intrigued. While the technology was advanced in Frieza's army, they hadn't utilized it to perform tasks. Their computer systems were used to calculate coordinates, determine power levels, keep tabs on one another, and efficient transportation. They hadn't developed robots to use for house keeping duties – those jobs had been reserved for the _slaves._

She led them further into the house, turning into a hall that led them into an even bigger room, which seemed to be even more brightly lit than the last. The woman was limping less now as she took big strides, her head held higher. It seemed she had regained some confidence now that she was back in her own territory. Continuing through the room, Vegeta suddenly heard a high-pitched squeal, followed by a screeching nasal voice.

" _OH!_ Bulma!"

The Bluehead stopped in her tracks, and Vegeta had to catch himself to keep from plummeting into her. Exasperated, he looked to the source of the voice, and his eyes widened when he saw a petite blonde lady running right at them. This must have been the mother - though Vegeta thought it strange that she wasn't acting any wiser or older than the Bluehead did. If she hadn't already told him to expect to meet her parents, the saiyan would have assumed the two were sisters.

"Dahl'ing! Oh, you're back!" The blonde was squeaking now, taking her daughter by the hand and giving it an enthusiastic jerk. She sure had a shrill voice! Vegeta bit his lip, making a rather sour face as his eardrums began to ring.

"Oh, and who's this handsome boy?" Mrs. Briefs suddenly dropped Bulma's hands as if they were foul, jumping for Vegeta and peering into his face. "Oh Bulma, he's stunning! See, I told ya baby, I knew you'd find yourself a hunkie man!"

"Mom..."

"Oh, come on now! You and Yamcha have been broken up for more than two years! It's about time you found someone else! I'm only speakin' the truth!"

"Mom..."

The blonde woman clapped her hands together and began to bounce on her feet. "I know! I'll make some lunch for us, and I wanna hear all about how you guys met-"

" **MOM!** "

That was enough to finally stop her ramble. "Okay, okay!" Mrs. Briefs threw her hands in the air as if someone was threatening her with a weapon, and she backed away with a big smile on her face. "I'm sorry, dear." She said to Vegeta, shaking her head as if to say _you know how she is_. "Bulma's got a bit of a temper, but she sure is a sweet girl. I always told my husband that moodiness is a sign of intelligence, ya know. Oh, I'll just go prepare some food."

"Mom, where's Dad?" Bulma asked, her own voice rising in pitch. She was feeling slightly mortified. It was just like her mother to quickly take on the role of embarrassing her in front of a man she'd brought home. The irony that her mom was doing it with her own kidnapper was nearly too much to take, and she was starting to feel rather lightheaded.

"He's in the lab!" Mrs. Briefs was calling as she headed for the kitchen. "Go say hi! He's been expecting you!"

.

"What happened to you?" Dr. Briefs actually seemed to notice the cuts and scrapes on his daughter, while Mrs. Briefs had been too busy fawning over Vegeta to care. "I just had a little **accident**." Bulma replied with pursed lips, taking to opportunity to shoot a blatant scowl at Vegeta, who narrowed his eyes in return. "Hey, I'm going to go look for the dragonballs. Do you know where the radar is?"

"Hm? Oh yes! It's over on that shelf." Dr. Briefs said with a wave of his hand. Bulma left Vegeta standing where he was as she walked off to where her father had gestured. As she began gathering items from the shelf, clipping things to her belt and strapping a bag over her shoulder, Vegeta took the time to glance around the lab. It was filled with half alive robots that seemed like they needed surgery, large computers that had a different look than the ones the saiyan had seen, mathematical equations sprawled across a whiteboard that took up an entire wall, and even a large vase filled with bubbling blue substance that was brewing over a burner. Vegeta was shocked. It was rare for him to come across this type of equipment on such a puny planet. Not only had the woman he'd taken hostage been aware of the dragonballs, but it seemed that she came from some family that had enough scientific knowledge to stand against the cold empire! Who _was_ she?!

"Alright, I think that's everything." Bulma announced, turning and walking back towards Dr. Briefs and Vegeta. She took in a deep breath, placing her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess we should-"

"Oh, before you leave. Have a look at this formula, will you?" Dr. Briefs, who had turned back to his desk as Bulma rummaged the shelf, ran a hand through his stringy hair. "I've been staring at it all day and can't figure out where I went wrong."

The Bluehead leaned over her father's shoulder and examined the notepad he'd been working on. It only took her five seconds before her finger shot out and clapped the sheet of paper. "This." She said. "Look, you can't have a coefficient right there."

"Oh - of course. Silly me."

She planted an affectionate smack on her father's cheek before standing back up straight. "You need to stop staying up so late, dad. It's bad for your health."

"Alright! You got me there." Dr. Briefs shrugged. Wanting to change the subject, he turned back to his daughter. "So, you're off to find the dragonballs. Does that mean Goku isn't doing well?"

She had started to look nearly happy, but the chipper mood suddenly dropped from her eyes. She shook her head, suddenly fighting away the tears. She had still been in shock when Vegeta had attacked her, and the ordeal had been enough to take her mind off of her friend for a bit. Now it was all flooding back, and she gulped sadly. How could she tell her father that Goku was already _dead_?

"Mmm. Such a shame. I hope he'll start feeling better soon." Dr. Briefs turned back to his desk, not seeming to notice the blatant distress on his daughter's face. "Well, make sure you take a toolkit with you in case you run into trouble."

The distraught Bluehead nodded, turning back towards the door. "I've got everything we'll need. See you later, dad."

"Okay. Say goodbye to your mother."

.

 _What the hell had just happened?_ The Woman's mother had been so interested in him that it nearly felt violating, and her father hadn't acknowledged his presence at all! Vegeta, still amazed at the laboratory, followed Bulma back up the stairs and into the large main room again, suddenly noting that the house was now filled with the odor of stewing meat.

"Oh, mom!" The Bluehead began to call towards the kitchen. "I'm sorry, I should have told you! We have to go! We can't eat right now!"

This was when Vegeta finally spoke for the first time since walking into the Briefs residence. "Hush!" He gave her a light nudge, clearing his throat. Bulma turned and raised her eyebrows quizzically. "Don't tell her to stop. You and I will eat." He growled.

Her face screwed and she threw out a hip. She looked at him with an expression as if she was questioning his intelligence, which Vegeta couldn't help but think was quite cocky considering the position she was in. "I thought you said I've wasted enough of your time!" She hissed.

"It is not possible to waste time when food is involved."

.

Lunch was awkward, but Bulma had expected that. She was sitting straight across from the man who had taken her prisoner, after all. Watching as he downed plates of food quicker than Mrs. Briefs could supply them, her stomach felt uneasy. _'Unreal.'_ She thought in horror, unable to take her eyes away as he swallowed a bowl of stew with one gulp. There had only been one other person she'd met who ate like that…

Not a word was spoken as they ate – Vegeta didn't care to answer any of Mrs. Briefs' invasive questions, and Bulma was too amazed at his eating habits to notice her own mom. It was when he finally swallowed the last on his food and set his last plate aside that Bulma seemed to realize her mother was in the room for the first time, and she casually pushed herself back in her chair. "So," The Bluehead said. She wasn't looking forward to it, but it was about time to get it over with. "We're going to hunt for the dragonballs."

" _Whaaat?!"_ Mrs. Briefs screeched. "Oh! That must mean Goku isn't doin so great!" She put a dramatic hand to her forehead, and turned to Vegeta. She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout that looked rather rehearsed, eyes welling with tears. "Goku has always been such a good boy. He really took care of my Bulma when they searched for the dragonballs together. You gotta take his place, honey! Please take care of my girl!"

"Mom!" Bulma hissed, her eyes widening from the irony of the situation once again. Not only had her mother mistaken this man – the same man who had violently abducted her – as her boyfriend, but she was asking _him_ to protect her?! If only she knew what she was saying! "Oh no, _mom!"_

Mrs. Briefs was reaching for Vegeta's hand, and he raised a disgusted eyebrow as he pulled it away. As the Woman attempted to calm her crying mother, the saiyan allowed her words to sink in. Of course he wasn't surprised to know that **Bulma** – as everyone kept calling her – had used the dragonballs before. But what struck his curiosity was that it was apparently dangerous. **Goku** – who seemed the be the deviant saiyan that died before Vegeta could meet him – had gone with her and acted as some kind of body guard? Where did the name _Goku_ come from, anyway? He could have sworn that the saiyan had some low-class name - Kakarot?

' _Wait a minute.'_ Vegeta thought. What kind of saiyan would locate something that would grant any wish, and not use it for immortality?! What kind of person had _Goku_ been?! He hadn't just failed miserably at his mission – he must have been an idiot, too!

It took nearly twenty minutes before Bulma had managed to calm down Mrs. Briefs and lead Vegeta back into her plane. She took in a deep breath as she strapped the safety belt back over her waist, her fingers trembling as she pulled the dragon radar from her pocket and clicked it on. Her eyes squinted as she studied the flashing ball on the screen. "It looks like we need to head north for the first one." She commented, clicking the button again to confirm the approximate coordinates. "It'll take us half a day to get there."

"Whatever." The saiyan growled. "Just as long as I can get my wish."

She nodded, leaning back in her seat and powering the plane to life. She had thought to thank Vegeta for being surprisingly patient with her parents, especially since she knew he didn't _have_ to. But it was obvious that he wasn't in the mood to talk. Her knuckles were trembling, and as she looked down at her hand she suddenly remembered the gold ring that had been strapped around her wrist. "Oh." She said, shaking her arm and watching it dangle. "Um.. what exactly is this?"

An irritated breath came from the man sitting beside her, as if the question she'd asked was beyond stupid. "It's a way to ensure you don't try to run off. When you are wearing that and get a certain distance away from me, it'll shoot an electric shock into your body. So strong that you'll pass out. We typically reserve them for our slaves back on the base, but you've been considered an exception."

She couldn't even respond, a chill running down her spine. With a weak nod she turned back to her dashboard, starting up the plane and taking off without another word. As they flew in silence through the sky, passing by cities below, she fought to calm her pulse as terrifying thoughts flooded her mind. She'd been planning something risky since they'd arrived at her house, and this news just made it even more of an uncertainty.

It wasn't until they had been flying for nearly four hours that she was calm enough to feel even half-confident of her plan again. They were now flying over a series of hills, lined green with trees and grass. The man beside her hadn't even cleared his throat since they'd taken off, and she wondered once again if he had gone to sleep. With a soft sigh she gave him a side-glance, noting that he was _indeed_ wide awake.

"So.." She said awkwardly, shifting her weight a little. She saw him twitch at hearing her voice, but otherwise he didn't respond. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you."

"What?" He replied, no emotion in his tone.

"It's a shame." She breathed, her fingers hovering over a button under her seat.

"What are you on about?" He growled.

… Her hand pressed the button, and her body tightened. She'd just sealed the deal. It really was now or never. "It's a shame you had to be such a jerk. You really were kind of cute."

A second later she had opened the plane door and thrown herself out, trying not to panic as she began her free-fall. She had only been able to drop about a hundred meters when the plane exploded, the heat from the impact slapping her in the back as she screamed.


	3. Pushing Buttons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who reads and comments on my stories. I can't lie, I get kind of obsessive with checking my phone to see how my work is being received after I post an update! ;) I get so excited!
> 
> Thanks again!

* * *

 

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

Vegeta was hovering above the wreckage, his heart pounding as he waited for the cloud of dust to fade. The woman was frail and weak – the explosion had been intentional, but there was no way she could have survived such a thing. If a single aspect of her plan had gone wrong she would have perished along with the plane. Or perhaps worse – if she had escaped in time, she may have just plummeted to her death. Wishing he could trace ki without his scouter, Vegeta's eyes searched the area for any sign of the woman, making his way through the cloud of debris and scanning his surroundings.

' _Damn, damn, damn!'_ He thought. Even if she had survived, she wouldn't be getting too far before her shock bracelet knocked her out. This would have been a slight source of comfort to the saiyan, if he wasn't concerned that she might be injured. If she were wounded and got zapped, the impact might be enough to finish her off.

Even as he flew he was amazed. Perhaps he'd underestimated her in assuming she wouldn't be capable of attempting such a thing! But now she might be dead, and he was cursing himself for letting it happen. He'd almost starting feeling comfortable sitting next to her, and he'd foolishly let his guard down. What an idiot he was! It was when he made it through the debris and could see more clearly that he spotted it. A large white veil that nearly looked like a tarp hanging from a tree on the highest mountain. Below the veil he could see two pale legs swaying in the wind.

Bulma was panting to catch her breath. She'd done it. The parachute that she strapped to her back in her father's lab had worked, the timing of the explosion had been perfect, and she had gotten away. Sure, her parachute had snagged in a tree and she was now dangling 10 meters above the ground, but she would find a way to get down. At least she'd survived. She was clutching the line of the parachute, gasping as her skin swelled with a pain unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. The entirety of her back had blistered from the wave of the explosion, and she was letting out whimpers from the pain. Oh, kami, she hadn't planned for that. Her eyes were closed, and she was still trying to come to terms with the throbbing in her muscles, when she heard his voice.

"You stupid woman! Are you **_trying_** to get yourself killed?!"

Bulma shook, dropping her head as she grasped the parachute line even tighter. She was so beside herself in agony that she didn't even register what his voice meant, and immediately she began to snap back. "What's the difference if I get myself killed?! It's not like you aren't going to kill me once we get all the dragonballs, anyway!" She screamed, shaking her head.

Vegeta was stunned. She was reacting as if she wasn't surprised by his presence at all. Rather, it almost seemed as if she'd assumed it wouldn't work all along, and she had long ago accepted that he might have survived. "Go ahead, then! Punish me! Kill me! At least I tried!" Her eyes were still pressed shut, and she let out a groan of pain as she swung in the wind before continuing. "You can't blame me! I know what you're planning to do with those dragonballs. You think you're the first person to want them?! I know you're going to destroy the planet! I had to try and stop you! You'd do the same thing if you were me! You don't understand what it's like to watch your friends die, to have someone kidnap you, threaten your life, threaten the entire world... At least by doing this I was giving myself a **_chance_**!" She turned then, opening her eyes, and the fire drained from her tone. Seeming to finally realize the situation for the first time, she stared at the man in front of her dumbly. Vegeta was hovering right in front of her at face level... 10 meters above ground... "You..." She breathed. He was flying? "You... you're just like Goku..."

He didn't reply right away. He was peering at her with his arms crossed, his eyes locked on her face. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. Bulma had noticed by now that if his forehead wasn't dripping with anger, then his expression would typically just be neutral. And even then, he was still likely to be mad. It was impossible to predict him. Her breathing slowed, and she watched back, waiting anxiously for the moment he would strike her.

But he never did.

As time passed and he continued to stare at her, she could swear she nearly saw his face soften. There was something dim lulling in the back on his eyes. He was still gazing at her, not having even blinked. "Believe me." He finally said, and faintly she saw that the look in his eyes was getting deeper as he spoke. There was something there - something she hadn't been expecting... "I understand what it's like." He continued. "I understand more than you will ever know."

_What?_

Her mouth dropped open, and suddenly he was right by her side, ripping the parachute lines that kept her strapped to the tree. She squeaked from the release of tension on her back, but she hardly had enough time to breathe before he grabbed by the waist and hoisted her over a shoulder. Carrying her as if she was a bag of wheat, he lowered them both to the ground.

As soon as she set her feet on the grass, Vegeta turned and shot a purple beam at the tree she'd just been trapped in. "DAMNIT!" He yelled, shooting down another. Bulma's eyes widened, holding her breath as she watched, thinking he would turn on her next. But he didn't. He let out another obscenity and then stood panting with his back to her, his hands balled into fists as he fought to gain his composure.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he slowly turned to glare at her from over his shoulder. "You destroyed our plane." He growled. "Your stupid child's game got our plane destroyed, Woman!"

She understood now - it was clear. His show of blasting trees was his way of releasing frustration without taking it out on her. Bulma, who was still processing the expression she'd seen on his face a few moments ago, was feeling less frightened now. "That wasn't our only plane." She said in a _matter-of-fact_ tone. With a shrug, she unclipped a capsule from her belt and threw it. A pink jet appeared from the smoke in front of them, and in an effort to be cheerful she clapped her hands together as she stepped towards it. "Not bad, huh?" Bulma forced a grin, despite the stinging that was still radiating across her back. She gestured to the jet with her thumb, locking eyes with Vegeta. "So, how's about we get back on route?"

He was still catching his breath as he watched her. She was actually smiling at him - as if she hadn't just destroyed a plane in an attempt to kill him! She was acting so calm about it! As if it had been some kind of joke! As if he'd easily forget about such a thing! _What was with this woman?!_ Vegeta wiped a few drops of sweat from his forehead, his amazement working to dull his fury. But still, it wouldn't do to have her attempting escapes when he needed her for the dragonballs. He glared, forcing the bewilderment off his face. He needed to make sure she wouldn't try anything again. "You see now that you can't easily get rid of me." He growled.

She shrugged. "It was a longshot. Like I said, you can't blame me for trying."

"You do know that if you hadn't landed in that tree and had gone any further the bracelet would have electrocuted you." He continued.

Her face lost some of its cheer. "…Yes. I know." She replied, but he could tell this was news to her. Did she not understand what he had already told her about it generating electric shock?

"The bracelet is designed to stop someone from getting outside of a certain radius of the person who assigned it. When a slave is attempting to flee, and they make it to the pod station, they will instantly drop and the shocks will cease. With you falling thousands of meters away, you would have continued to be shocked until your heart fried. You understand that, don't you?"

She was looking rather ill now, but he could see she was trying to mask it.

"This is exactly why I put it on you, Woman." He continued. "I could tell you would be the type to attempt an escape. I must say, though. I didn't think you had something like _that_ in you…"

The Bluehead turned, shaking her head as he continued his lecture. She was heading for the jet, not wishing to hear anymore - he was making his point. It was then that Vegeta saw her back. The rear of her shirt was withered into scraps that revealed burned pink skin. Patches of dried blood spread across her body. Cuts. Meanwhile, Vegeta had a minor tear in the fabric of his left arm, having managed to fly from the plane and avoid the blunt of the explosion. His eyes widened, examining her injuries. She had said she believed he was planning to destroy Earth with his wish, and it was clear that she really was trying to protect her planet. She really _had_ been willing to sacrifice herself in effort to stop his plans and protect this disgusting ball of grass. And, again, she'd been right - it was true, he _really_ couldn't blame her for it.

Protecting his own home planet was something he hadn't even managed to attempt himself, and he knew he would have risked his own life if he'd been given the opportunity. In fact, it was something Vegeta had fantasized about throughout the majority of his adolescence. The wish that he could have done something, or at least tried. The dreams he would wake up from, visions of his planet's demise playing over in his head. He'd been unable to do anything but watch in horror from Frieza's ship. The sound as the world he'd been born to exploding, echoing through space as it reached his ears, playing over in his mind for years to come as he screamed through his dreams. The utter resentment that fueled his hate, causing him to lash out and rebel against his captor at any chance he got. It never did him any good. His spiteful acts of revolt never filled the gaping pit in his core that had formed in watching his civilians' execution. It only resulted in his own torture, his own pride being threatened as Frieza sliced a long nail through his skin while his henchmen cheered.

He really couldn't blame her for trying. This woman – this confusing girl that cowered at his shadow one moment, and then was throwing herself out a plane the next. She was truly unpredictable. Her actions should have meant she was fearless, and yet she was quick to get unhinged over his description of the electric shackle. Vegeta smirked, following behind and boarding the pink plane. This trip was going to be rather interesting…

.

Neither of the two exchanged words for another four hours, until Bulma landed the plane in a pasture and shut the engine off. "We're coming up close to the first dragonball." She muttered without making eye contact, crawling out from the jet. Vegeta followed suit, hopping into the grass. It was night time now, and there was hardly anything to illuminate the pasture at all. He turned towards the Bluehead and saw in the pale of the night that she was throwing another capsule. A moment later, and a small house had formed in the dark. From the interior Vegeta could see that there were lights on, which cast through the window to illuminate his face as he grinned. " _Interesting…"_

The house had been equipped with everything that made Bulma comfortable. A fluffy sofa in a sitting room, a bedroom with thick blankets that made her feel pampered to lay under. A refrigerator full of food. Vegeta had gone right after it, filling his arms with every ingredient he could get his hands on and concocting a makeshift feast with the resources. Not sure of what else she could do, Bulma sat across from the saiyan as he stuffed his face. She watched, once again distracted with amazement as he swallowed everything down with enough pace to make her dizzy.

 _'If only Goku were still alive.'_ She thought. _'These two could have had raced each other.'_ She wondered who would win during a timed eating competition, for she almost felt as if _this man_ was quicker with his mouth than even Goku had managed. Her eyes widened as he down a plate of cold noodles, trying to find a connection as to how his eating habits could be so similar to her best friend.

Vegeta felt her eyes on him, and it wasn't until he finished his last bite that he looked up and shot her a scowl that he hoped would intimidate her.

Instead of looking frightened she cupped a cheek in her palm, nodding her head to the side. "How do you understand." She said, and it came out as a muffled command rather than a question. He raised an eyebrow, not bothering to verbally respond to her words. "You said you understand what it's like to be in my position. To be held captive. You understood why I jumped from the plane… How could you know what that's like."

A million potential ways of responding ran through his mind. Flashbacks of torture chambers, of bloody body parts he had to salvage through. Of miscellaneous screams. Of manic laughter. Of a lizard's tail swaying bitterly as it considered its revenge. Vegeta furrowed his eyebrows, not wishing to relive any of it. "That's not important." He replied. "My past is nothing you should be concerned with."

She wasn't satisfied with this, and she continued staring at him. Vegeta darkened his tone. "I said it's none of your business." He growled.

"Why does it matter if I know? Your secret will be laid to rest when you decide to end this game and finish me off like you did my friends. You might as well share it." She replied, sounding rather nonchalant about her own demise.

 _That was it._ His calm mood had been fading with the intruding thoughts of Frieza's sword-like claws, and now she was interrogating him. "You keep talking as if you know my plans!" Vegeta spat. "I never said I would kill you!"

"Oh? Act as if you have a conscious all the sudden! I'm not stupid! You don't _have_ to tell me, I can see it myself!"

"You must not be as smart as you think you are if you're going to make such idiotic decisions!" He snapped. "For you to go and pull something so suicidal, over a mere _assumption_ , you're obviously a _fool_!"

Bulma shook, unable to think of a retaliation. He made a good point, and she _hated_ it. She bit her lip, turning away as she felt her cheeks started to sting. None of this made any sense. His words completely contradicted everything she'd seen him do to her friends. He yelled as if the mere idea of him killing her was preposterous, which may have been comforting if he wasn't _screaming_ it at her. What was with him, anyway? He was harsh one moment, nearly _pleasant_ towards her parents the next. He went back and forth between threatening her, then yelling at her for putting herself in danger. He'd even been looking at her as if he had made some type of epiphany when she'd still been hanging from her parachute. What was _that_ about, anyway? She'd expected him to be angry beyond all reason, but he hadn't even slapped her. He'd specifically restrained himself from it, and she just couldn't make sense of that. He'd sounded so genuine when he made his confession to her before ripping her from the tree, but now he didn't want to tell her anything.

None of it made any sense!

"Would it suit _your highness_ if I excused myself?" She hissed sarcastically, feeling rejected from his harsh reaction to her questions.

"What do I care!" Vegeta barked.

Bulma pushed herself up from the table. She really hadn't intended for him to get so upset. He seemed like the type who was eager to share gruesome details if it meant causing her fear. If anything, she thought her own interest might have intrigued him, but instead it'd had the opposite effect, and she was no closer to understanding anything about his character. "Will I be able to leave the room without getting _electrocuted_? Or would that be getting too far away for you?" She asked, looking for an excuse to give him a hard time. Even so, she was surprised as the hostility in her own tone. She instantly regretted it, thinking it would spur him into a tirade, but he didn't even look up at her. "You could jump from a plane without it going off. You tell me."

 _Great._ Once again, he'd made a good point. Now she was not only frustrated, but also embarrassed for asking such an obvious question. "I don't know what the radius for this safeguard is!" She replied, cheeks turning pink, trying to defend her reasoning for asking.

"As you shouldn't. The less you know, the lower the chances you'll attempt anything else idiotic."

Bulma let out a sharp hiss. He was giving her minimal yet condescending responses, and perhaps he was doing it to mess with her. If his goal was to get under her skin, it was working. She stormed for the bathroom, slamming the door shut as she went. A moment later the door swung open again, and she reappeared in front of the saiyan. Vegeta was still sitting at the table, glaring bitterly at the wall.

"I want to take a bath." She announced.

"Okay."

" _I said_ I need to bathe."

"Fine."

"How can I bathe with this thing on?"

"It can get wet."

"I don't believe you."

"You should."

"I need more detailed answers!"

"Not necessary."

"You must really see me as stupid if you think I'll believe that this device has the ability to electrocute me, but isn't going to shock me when I submerge it in water!"

Vegeta slammed his hands down on the table now, the dishes rattling from the impact. "Damnit, _Woman!_ " He barked. He was still trying to collect himself as memories of Frieza's ship flooded his mind, and she was only prodding his patience with her incessant questioning. "If I cared so much about making sure you didn't run off, why would I send you to be electrocuted in a tub?! Go bathe and leave me alone!"

"You could be lying. You could be setting this all up so I'll go in there and -"

A chair flew across the room as Vegeta abruptly stood. "Believe me, Woman! If I wanted you to die I could easily do it with my bare hands - _right now_! I have no need for such elaborate plots!" He spat. "You're testing my temper, Woman. Enough with your paranoid accusations!"

"I have a reason to be paranoid!" She screamed, turning and storming from the room again. When she made it to the bathroom she turned, glaring at the saiyan who had retrieved his chair and was now sitting again. "And my name is not _Woman!_ It's **_Bulma!_** "

.

An hour later, and a fresh Bulma Briefs had stepped back out into the main room. Mentally she wasn't nearly as angry as she had been before going in, but physically she was feeling worse. Warm water on burnt skin could do that to a person. But her hair was washed, her skin cleaned of the dust that had been caked on throughout the day, and she was relieved to have gotten it over with. Vegeta, who looked like he hadn't even moved and was still glaring at the wall, had heard it all. The way she had been groaning in the bathtub, letting out sharp curses and moans any time she seemed to move. He knew that she was in pain because of her back, and it only made him feel more sour. ' _Foolish girl.'_ He thought. Perhaps _this_ would be enough of a lesson for her to not attempt anything so rash again.

The Bluehead stepped through the room without a word, taking a seat across from the saiyan and placing something in front of him. He looked at it, recognizing it as the device she'd referred to as the _dragon radar._ "There's no telling until we start our search in the morning, but there's a village nearby." Bulma was saying now. "The dragon radar will direct us to the dragonball in relation to our own geographic location, sort of like a compass, but I can't be sure of where exactly it is until I start the search tomorrow. It's possible the dragonball is laying somewhere in the surrounding forest, but I suspect someone who lives in the village has possession of it."

"Easy enough." The saiyan replied.

"I'll go look for it tomorrow. You can stay here and wait, but I need to know that the bracelet you put on me will allow me to make the trip."

"Nice try." He smirked, looking up at her for the first time since she'd been sitting there. "I'm going with."

Her eyes widened at that, and she shook her head. "No - I don't need you to come."

"Oh? So I'll set you loose to attempt another escape plan?" He nearly laughed at this, and she didn't think she'd ever seen him looking so amused before. Truth be told, up until that point she hadn't been sure if he even _had_ a sense of humor. "No…" She drifted, trying to find the words. He made a good point, but escaping truly hadn't been on her mind this time. If she wanted to attempt to get away again, she'd make it a much less obvious than _that._ "It's just that… there's going to be… _people_ …"

"Oh? _People_ in a village! Who would have guessed?!" Vegeta scoffed before narrowing his eyes. "Look. I told you I wouldn't harm your parents if they didn't intervene, and I stuck to my word - did I not? My only focus is obtaining the dragonballs. If I cared to commit genocide on your people I would be fully capable of doing that now, and without _any_ help."

" _My people."_ Bulma breathed. This wasn't the first time that his odd word choice had struck her. She held her breath as she looked at his face, thinking for the second time that this man really _was_ some kind of alien… The strange thing was that there were features about him that struck her as oddly similar to Goku. The color of his hair, which seemed to defy gravity no matter what he did. The large muscles that protruded from every crevice of his body. His appetite, which seemed to be completely insatiable… The fact that he could _fly..._ But what did any of it mean?

"Now that we are on the subject – how many dragonballs are there?" Vegeta grunted, bringing her back to reality. She cleared her throat. "There's seven."

"Right. So we need all seven before I can get my wish. How long will it take after retrieval?"

"Oh, uh - it shouldn't take long. The hard part is collecting them."

"Good." He nodded, looking satisfied now. "We have 88 days."

"88 _days_?" The confusion was written on her face. There was an _exact_ deadline? Suddenly her nerves were triggered. "Why 88 days? Why not 90 - or even 200?"

There wasn't a playful smirk, nor even the hint of joke on his face. Vegeta was staring into her eyes now, sternly asserting his point. "My time runs out in 88 days. If I don't gain immortality by then, well - you don't want to know what happens."

The way he said it was nearly grim, but not in a manner that was threatening her directly. It was almost as if he was talking about himself. As if he was speaking of fate in general. His earlier words replayed in her head once again – _he'd said he understood what it was like to watch his friends die and be… **kidnapped** … _Bulma's heart suddenly dropped. She watched as he stood, and she held a hand out to stop him. "Wait." She gasped. "Wait! Are you – is there… Is someone coming after you?"

Vegeta had been making his way through the living room. He abruptly paused, and she knew it was true. Slowly he glanced at her, the fearfully serious expression still plastered on his chiseled face. " _Smart girl."_ He muttered. "Don't ask any more questions. Understand?"

And with that he marched into the bedroom and shut the door, leaving Bulma with only her racing imagination to keep her company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Eddie's Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been reading and offering feedback!

"Why are we walking when we could fly instead?" Vegeta grumped. He'd assumed that the village would be much closer to where they'd set up camp for the night, but they had been walking for 20 minutes already, and he had no idea how much longer it would be.

"I don't want to cause a commotion by arriving in a jet." Bulma replied, her eyes glued to the radar. "We don't have too much longer. It looks like we're getting close."

"We could fly _without_ a jet." The saiyan retorted, irritated with how high the sun already was in the sky.

"No we can't!" Bulma hissed back. The truth was, she was fully aware that Vegeta was able to fly - a capability that took her by surprise when he'd done it to pull her out of a tree. And, if it had been anyone else, she would have actually _demanded_ such a treatment. She was hungry, not having eaten dinner the night before, and she was tired – she hadn't gotten much sleep on the couch, and the bastard had woken her up when it was still dark out! The Bluehead was hardly in the mood to walk at all, but she'd be damned if she was going to get physically close to her captor anytime soon.

Up ahead she could see the lining of the village now, large huts making up the boundary of the tiny town. "About time." The saiyan grumbled. "Next time we will fly. We could have made this trip in less than half the amount of time."

Bulma ignored him, narrowing her eyes as she punched the button on her radar to adjust the scale. "Looks like the dragonball really is in the village." She sighed. "Oh, I'd really been hoping it would be in a tree somewhere. It would have made things so much easier..."

"And? We will just take it from whoever owns it. If they try anything, I'll take care of them."

"You said you wouldn't hurt anyone!" Bulma snapped, gripping her radar with both hands and shooting an incredulous look at Vegeta. The saiyan screwed his face and turned away bitterly - he'd actually forgotten he'd said such a thing. How was it that he was so prone to just _agreeing_ to her requests? This was their second day together, and he'd already compromised so much for this reckless girl! He told himself that it was because he needed her for the dragonballs, but this did nothing to cease the warped feeling inside when he thought of it. "If it becomes necessary, I won't hold back" He finally resolved.

"You didn't hold back when you killed my friends." Bulma spat, and it rolled off her tongue with such casual bitterness that she didn't even blink an eye. She clicked the button on her radar again and turned her head to a side as she studied the map, trying to get an idea of where in the village the ball would be found.

"That's what you think." Vegeta hissed.

 _What did that even mean?_ How could he talk about holding back, and then claim he'd done such a thing to Krillin and Yamcha. She'd been there to see it – he'd brutally murdered them! Bulma shook her head, choosing to shove the thoughts back rather than grow emotional. They were advancing on the village now, and she looked ahead to see the large wooden fence that seemed to enclose its perimeters. "Remember." She said. "Don't let them know we want the dragonball. Don't _**use**_ the word _dragonball_. Don't explain what it is. Try to act as if it it's nothing more than a pretty jewel. We don't want to attract attention to what we're doing"

"Yeah, yeah..."

.

An old lady was using a shawl to shield her aching head from the sun as she noticed a strange couple walking on the other end of the street. How odd - the man appeared to be no taller than the woman, yet he was twice as wide in build. The eldery lady watched as the strange couple stared at something in the woman's hands, drifting through the crowd of villagers as they went.

It appeared as if they were reading a map. And, as the elderly woman watched, they headed straight for the rowdiest place possible, causing her to shake her head. It was a saloon that was filled with thirsty customers at all times of the day. It offered burlesque shows at night – the whistles and howls of the handsy men inside were notorious for keeping the villagers up.

"That poor fool." The elderly lady muttered, noting the Bluehaired woman's young frame. "She'd be better off turnin' around than going straight into Eddie's trap…"

.

Yelling and howling could be heard from inside the saloon, even as Vegeta and Bulma stood outside. "Remember. Let me do the work. We don't want to stand out." The Bluehead whispered, shoving the dragon radar in her pocket and smoothing out her hair.

"Woman, if you tell me that _one_ more time, _I swear_ …"

"Ssh! Just let me do all the work, okay? Just keep watch, okay?"

The door swung open as the two stepped into the saloon, and Vegeta slipped into the shadows to stand guard by the door. It couldn't have been any later than 10 in the morning, and already the building was full of a bunch of intoxicated men. Sitting around tables, all of them were yelling and laughing, and none of them seemed to notice the saiyan who was standing with his back against the wall by the entrance. Their eyes fell on Bulma as she passed, making her way to the bar at the end of the saloon.

"What's a little thing like you doing in a place like this?" One man called, leaning out from his chair and waving his arm as if he'd grab her at any moment. Vegeta was surprised to feel his bicep tighten to see it, but he furrowed his eyebrows and stood firm. This woman made it clear that she didn't want him to get involved. Not only that, but she was capable of more than she led on – she'd jumped out of a damned plane despite her inability to fly! So, rather than blast the disgusting idiots, the saiyan tightened his jaw and continued to watch, his eyelid twitching.

Ignoring the men that were whistling at her, Bulma's eyes were tracking the building as she weaved through the aisles of loud tables. It could be that one of the drunk customers had the dragonball in their cargo, perhaps? Or maybe the ball would be found somewhere else… Did this place have a basement?

"Little lady, come _here!_ Why don't you sit on my lap, and we can talk about the first thing that comes _up!_ " A faceless man shouted, followed by a howl of laughs. The Bluehead, growing impatient with the insulting words being thrown at her, was about to turn to whoever just said that, but a sparkle caught her eye, and she looked up instead.

She could see it – that orange sphere, light reflecting on it from the window. Propped up against jackalope antlers as a stand, the tangerine orb was sitting on display at the mantel of the bar. Her eyes glued on the ball, she quickly whisked away from the yodeling men. Behind the counter of the bar stood a greasy looking man in a white wife-beater shirt, wiping down a mug with a towel as he watched her approach.

Still hidden in the background, completely unnoticed by the patrons in this shop, Vegeta noted how quickly her path had changed. It was obvious she'd seen it. He looked ahead, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. Things were about to get _interesting…_

"What a little thing like you doing in a place like this so early, sweetie?" The bartender finally scowled, eying Bulma's body up and down. Vegeta could hear it through the ruckus of the crowd, his advanced senses twitching to hear such hunger in the bartender's voice. He noted that the Blueheads arms tensed at his words, her hands rolling into fists, and he thought for a moment that she was going to lash out. Instead she surprised the saiyan - she took a deep breath, pulling back a stool and taking a seat at the counter.

' _Interesting,_ ' Vegeta thought, a light smirk lining his lips. She really did have some sort of plan, after all…

The scowling bartender eyed her up and down again, stepping back and slamming a mug on the counter. "Can I help you?" He asked, a smirk on his lips as if challenging her.

"I want a whiskey on ice." Bulma replied. The bartender let out a loud cackle. " _She wants a whiskey on ice!"_ He grabbed a hose and started filling the mug with beer instead. When the glass was filled to its brim with froth he slid it towards her, shaking his head as he laughed again.

"Excuse me!" Bulma replied. "I said I wanted a WHISKEY on ICE! _This_ isn't what I ordered!"

"Whiskey on ice is a sissy drink, sugar-toots." The bartender snapped. With that he turned and began to walk away so he could tend to his regular customers. The Bluehead watched, pretending to take a sip from her mug, as the greasy man found a spot at the other end of the bar, as far away as he could possibly have been from her. The bartender began to engage in conversation, clearly pleased to be speaking to whoever it was he'd found the company of. It was when the guy threw back his head to laugh at something that she stood quickly, her eyes narrowing. "Now!" She hissed. As Vegeta watched, she crawled up onto the counter from her stool and took a dive towards the dragonball.

"Hey!" The bartender yelled, but Bulma was already making her way back to across the counter. Her tiny body clambered onto the counter, trying to crawl back to the other side, as the bartender grabbed her leg to hold her back. "What d'you think you're doin'?!" He yelled. "Let go of that heirloom!"

"Ew!" Bulma screamed, flailing her leg out and landing a kick in his face. "Pervert!" Stunned, the bartender let go and fell back onto the floor. Feeling somewhat amused by this show, Vegeta pushed himself off the wall and readied his stance. He noticed as the drunk men who'd been sitting at the tables began to simultaneously push themselves up, making their way towards Bulma as she finally managed to pull herself back across the counter. She jumped down from the bar, ready to make her escape, but she found that she was suddenly surrounded as the crowd closed in on her.

" _Hey!"_ One man yelled.

" _Who do you think you are? You kicked Eddie!"_

" _What do y'all say we teach this one what happens to troublemakers?"_

Up until now Vegeta hadn't spoken a single word. He raised an eyebrow, thinking that perhaps the Bluehead might have another plan up her sleeve. As he watched, Bulma shoved the dragonball into her shirt, backing away as the crowd advanced on her. Her eyes went wide when her back collided with the counter behind her. She quickly grabbed the first thing she could – the mug of beer that had been served to her, and she flung it at the mob.

Her aim was faulty at best, and it crashed into the concrete floor half a meter short of even colliding with any of the angry villagers that were advancing on her. It was with this that they all froze, looking at the mixture of broken glass and alcohol that now lay in a sloppy puddle in front of them. A silence had suddenly befallen the saloon, everyone registering what had just happened as Bulma stood breathless, her chest heaving as she tried to think of what to do.

Finally Vegeta stepped forward. "Well?" He called, and everyone looked up to see him.

"Well, what?" Bulma replied, the villagers turning back to her…

"Well, what the hell was THAT supposed to achieve?!" Vegeta barked, waving his hands towards the splatter of broken glass.

"Shut up!" The Bluehead snapped. "It was worth a shot!"

It was then that the mob of men all broke into a fit of laughter. "Feisty little thing, ain't she!" One heckled. "You gonna put a leash on your woman, mister!?"

Vegeta was going to snarl something insulting back, but he heard a high-pitched scream that took his attention instead. The saiyan whipped around to see Bulma being pulled back onto the counter. The bartender had an arm wrapped around her throat as she struggled, holding a knife in another hand. He was rearing his teeth and dragging her closer to his body, blood dripping from his nose where she'd kicked him.

" _Get her, Eddie!"_ Someone shouted. _"Teach her some respect!"_

Eddie, the bartender, rolled a fingertip across Bulma's shoulder, making a straight path for her breast. That was the farthest he got. A moment later he let out a loud curse, feeling as if his arm had been ripped from his own body. He fell back, looking up to see Vegeta standing over him. "Touch her again, and you'll die." The saiyan growled. Eddie looked to his side to see a line of blood dripping down his arm, his breath heaving as he wondered what the hell had just happened.

" _Help!_ " Bulma suddenly cried, and Vegeta whipped around to see that the mob had made their way to the counter now. She was being pulled off the counter by the legs, the drunk men jeering around her as her body was slowly dragged into the crowd. "Stop! Don't touch me! _**Ew!**_ " She was screaming, coiling frantically as she tried to fight her way out of their hold.

' _What a troublesome Woman_ ,' The saiyan sighed. He spat down at Eddie before jumping for the Bluehead, landing punches in the faces of the five men who were holding her. Bulma fell to the ground as soon as they let go, and Vegeta quickly scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder. "Such a bother!" He growled, jumping into the air and flying over everyone's heads as they made their exit. Glasses and chairs were being thrown at them as they went, and Bulma clamped her eyes shut as Vegeta dodged the objects during his charge. It was only a moment later that they were outside and disappearing into the distance as the air whipped around them.

.

" _I don't want to cause a commotion_ , she said!" Vegeta yelled over the sound of the wind slapping against them. " _Act normal_ , she said! And then she goes and kicks their leader in the face!"

"He wasn't their leader!" Bulma yelled. They had stopped briefly so she could rearrange herself into a more comfortable position. Her arms clapped around his shoulders as she hung from his back, her head resting in the arch of his neck. "And we got it, didn't we?!"

"You didn't even want me to go with you, and you would've been pillaged if I hadn't been there! Stupid Woman!"

"My name is not _Woman!"_ She barked in his ear. "It's _Bulma!"_ Regardless, she couldn't argue with what he was saying. She really didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't been there to bail her out, and the idea of that was enough to confuse her dearly. This was the same man she was supposed to be terrified of – who she'd watched carry out brutal attacks, and yet she was overwhelmed with some strange type of gratitude in knowing that he was going to keep her safe during this journey. Her grip around his shoulders tightened as she thought, her eyebrows furrowing. Not caring to listen to any more of the lecturing he had for her, she closed her eyes and buried her face into his shoulder to shield herself from the slapping wind.

.

"So, this is it."

The two had stopped for the time, sitting at the table in Bulma's capsule house as they looked at the three-star dragonball she'd retrieved. The Bluehead had her radar in her hand, staring at the dot on its screen as she nodded. "Yes. No doubt about it, this isn't a fake."

"Hm…" Vegeta leaned towards the ball, prodding it with a finger. He wasn't quite sure of what he'd been expecting, but he hadn't imagined the dragonball to look like an oversized marble. "So, we need six more."

"Right." Bulma breathed, shoving the radar back in her pocket. She had a small plate of noodles at her side, and she began to pick at it as they spoke. Her stomach was painfully growling. It was 3 or 4 in the afternoon now, and hadn't eaten yet that day.

"You do understand that there's no way you'll be allowed to retrieve any of the others without my supervision." The saiyan grunted, pushing himself back from the dragonball and looking at the woman. "Any chances of that were eliminated after seeing your technique today."

"At least I got the damned thing!" Bulma snapped, slamming a hand down on the table. She quickly shoveled another bite of noodles into her mouth, chewing furiously before swallowing it down. Her cheeks were turning red, not pleased with being lectured yet again. "You don't give me enough credit, you know! We wouldn't have even known where the ball _was_ if it hadn't been for me!"

"Right. And what good does _that_ do us if you're going to be violated by a bunch of angry drunks a minute after finding it?" Vegeta glared. "If I hadn't been there, you _know_ what they would have done to you."

"Yeah, well…" Bulma said dumbly, her cheeks burning. He had a point. "Well… _thanks_." Her shoulders relaxed as she sank back into her seat.

"Such a strange Woman…" The saiyan muttered, looking back down at the dragonball and taking it into his hand.

"My name isn't _Woman!_ " The Bluehead hissed.

"Right. Right. Your name is Bulma."

"Yes. It is! So start using it!"

"Yeah." The saiyan waved his hand dismissively, eying the ball as he held it up to his face. He still couldn't believe that such a small thing was going to be the key to his immortality. It seemed to be generating no power at all!

"So, what's _your_ name, anyway?"

The question was enough to make the saiyan look up from the ball, raising an eyebrow as he glared at the Bluehead sitting across from him. "You sure talk a lot for such a weak creature."

The Bluehead crossed her arms, a puffy pout laying across her face. "I'm just trying to get to know you!" She said with a ' _hmph',_ and made to stand up from the table. "And I am _not_ weak!"

"Vegeta."

"Listen, buddy! I don't know what the _hell_ a _Vegeta_ is, so your insult means nothing! You need to stop making fun of me! I did the best I could and it's not as if-"

"My **name** is _**Vegeta!**_ "

"Oh." She sat back down. "Your name is Vegeta?"

"That's what I just said, damnit!"

"Oh…" She let out an awkward giggle, grabbing her plate of noodles again and scooping a bundle into her mouth. "So, I can call you Vegeta from now on."

"I'd assume you would, since that's my name…" Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Enough with the small talk. How far are we from the next dragonball?"

"It'll take us a day to get there. The next one appears to be due East."

"Excellent. I expect no delays." The saiyan shoved the dragonball in his pocket and nodded, crossing his arms and looking at Bulma expectantly.

"Well, I need a bath before I start." She replied with a scowl. "I'm covered in gross pervert sweat and beer drippings."

The saiyan didn't reply, so Bulma stood up and began to make her way across the room. It was when she got to the door to the bathroom that she heard him again, pushing himself up from the table and following after. "Hey." He said, and she turned around with wide eyes. He was coming right for her, and for a moment she was on edge. _Why was he following her into her bathroom after she'd announced she was going to bathe?_

"Your back is still injured." He muttered, only a meter away now. With a scowl on his face he reached an arm out, and Bulma looked down to see something in his hand. "Take this."

Her eyes widened, taking the purple tube from Vegeta's fingers, and she looked up to give him a quizzical look.

"It's designed to heal flesh wounds during combat. Such injuries are laughable, so I don't have use for this crap. Rub it into your burns before you bathe."

"How do I know this isn't a trick?" She scowled, her fingers squeezing the tube as if she would shove it back in his hands.

"I don't have time for arguments. Do whatever you want." He replied, almost sounding tired, before turning and walking away. Bulma watched as he disappeared into the bedroom, her fingertips tracing the tube he'd given her. He'd described the ointment as if he'd come from the army – how odd… He spoke of people on Earth as if he was not one of them, and they were foreign to him. He was undeniably strong, ate like a whale, and could even _fly…_

At least she now knew what his name was, but that didn't do much to soothe the curiosity in her mind. "Vegeta," She whispered, backing into the bathroom and closing the door. " _Who_ _ **are**_ _you?"_


	5. Dinner Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I got a bit side-tracked in trying to get two of my other stories posted up on AO3. I hope you enjoy this one!

The slight breeze of wind was painful enough on his skin that it stirred Krillin from his rest. Every crevice of his body ached, eyes stinging from the dust that was blown in his face during his sleep. His cheeks twitched as he tried to remember what happened. The last thing he could replay in his mind was the dark eyes of that man - that stranger - and the rest was nothing.

“G-Goku...” He breathed. Yes, it was true. He remembered that Goku had died. He’d been watching another one of Bulma and Yamchca’s arguments concerning this when the man had struck.

With a cringe, Krillin moved his arm… Luckily he had senzu beans... It took every strain his muscles could muster, but Krillin managed to fish a bean from his pocket and slip it between his lips. Feeling as if he would choke at any moment, he ground the bean up between his teeth and swallowed as soon as he could.

And then, in only a split second, he suddenly felt whole.

“YAMCHA! BULMA!” He howled, shooting from the crater his body had been laying in. He expected to see his friends and that man engaged in a battle, but instead he saw only trees. Realizing that he must have flown into the forest after Vegeta’s blow, Krillin focused his mind for his friends’ ki. Bulma’s was nowhere around. Neither was a foreign power that would have belonged to that strange man.

All he felt was Yamcha, and it was fading fast.

 _What had happened?_ As far as Krillin knew, he’d only been out for a few seconds! He began to charge towards Yamcha’s ki, his mind racing as possibilities began to play in his head. Who was that man? What could he have wanted? They hadn’t done anything wrong! There was no reason for someone to attack!

When he found Yamcha laying in a pool of his own blood, arms curled in unnatural positions, Krillin felt as if his own heart would stop. He shot a hand in his pocket, searching for a senzu bean, and his breath caught in his throat. “No!” He gasped, patting the leg of his pants desperately. “No! No! There’s gotta be another one! I can’t be out already!”

A gurgling noise could be heard coming from Yamcha as he seemed to realize he was no longer alone.

“Hold on, old buddy!” Krillin panted, frantically feeling around his other pocket for even the hint of a bean. There was a cluster of dirt that he grabbed in his fist, pulling it from his orange pants to give it a look over. Green dust blew from his palm as he examined the pile he’d found, and Krillin dropped to his knees.

“Yamcha... open up.” He breathed, palming the dust into the Z-Fighter’s mouth. “The last bean got crushed... just swallow what you can of its crumbs, buddy...”

It wasn’t much, but Yamcha listened to his friend and gulped down what he could. A moment later he felt as the strength slowly fluttered through his veins, and the Z-Fighter pushed himself up from the ground with trembling arms. “Bulma!” He groaned, taking in a sharp gulp of breath.

“Careful, man.” Krillin said, putting a firm hand on Yamcha’s shoulder. “You only got a little bit of the senzu bean in you. Don’t push yourself too hard!”

“We need to find Bulma!” Yamcha replied breathlessly.

“What happened after that guy hit me?” Krillin asked. “I don’t remember anything!”

“That bastard... He wanted the dragonballs...” Yamcha finally managed to pull himself to his feet, wobbling a bit as he caught his balance. “He... He went after her...”

Krillin closed his eyes, racing his mind for any trace of Bulma’s ki. In the distance - the far distance, he found it. “She’s okay.” He announced, furrowing his brows. “He’s strong - really strong. He’s with her, but she doesn’t feel like she’s injured.”

“I’ll bet he’s keeping her because he wants the dragonballs. We’ve gotta stop him!” Yamcha grit his teeth, taking a step forward.

“Hey! Careful!” Krillin gasped, breaking from the trance he’d been in. “We’ll get her. But you need to recover first! This guy isn’t like anyone else we’ve ever encountered. We don’t even have Goku to help us with this. We _can’t_ go into it when you’re still injured.” With that Krillin grabbed Yamcha’s arm and jumped into the air, taking off for the closest hospital he could. “I’ll keep track of her, and we can go if it starts to feel like something bad is happening. You need to heal first. And I need to get more senzu beans… I have a feeling we’ll need them.”

.

“So, are you the good guy or the bad guy?”

Vegeta was stomping through the woods as Bulma followed. She was briskly tagging along, staring at him from behind as they went. The sun was getting ready to set, and the saiyan was hunting for dinner after realizing he’d already eaten through all of the supply they’d had.

“What kind of question is that?” He growled. It seemed that the more time that passed, the more mouthy this Earth Woman became. It was unnerving - where was the fear? He’d rather her be too frightened to make such casual conversation. It was as if she’d realized he had no intentions of actually harming her, and to his frustration he was having a hard time wanting to scare her any more. Each time he considered saying something to physically intimidate her, the image of her jumping from the exploding plane flashed through his mind. The words she’d said when he discovered her hanging from the tree…

“Well, you told me before that someone will be coming for you in about 87 days...” Bulma took a deep breath, climbing over a fallen tree trunk. “... It’s obvious you’re going to use your wish to your advantage against that other person. And I’m helping you find the dragonballs, so I guess that means I’m on your side, right?”

The saiyan gurgled a response, not caring to verbally reply.

“Right.” Bulma continued. “And I’m wondering... which side am _I_ on? The good, or the bad?”

“Perhaps there is no good and bad.” He growled, looking over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t falling behind. “Enough with this. It would be wise not to assume such fairy tale scenarios.”

“I think.” Bulma continued, choosing to ignore him. “I think you’re a huge asshole, but you might also be good. For whatever worth that is.”

“Asshole?” The saiyan nearly chuckled, but fought the reaction off. He was tired of her doing this to him. It seemed that she was always catching him off guard, sometimes causing him to drop his bitter guise. He needed to maintain a tough front if he was going to ensure her respect. There was no room for jesting! Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut instead?!

“You murdered my friends. You kidnapped me. You put this awful bracelet on my arm, and you have no guilt. You’re an asshole, and I don’t like you.” The Bluehead almost fell when her foot snagged on a root, and she hopped to catch her balance. “But you weren’t horrible to my parents, and you helped me in that bar...”

“You’ll do yourself a service to stop romanticizing things.” Vegeta growled, and it was obvious that he was getting tired of her speech. “There is no _good_ and _bad._ That mentality is foolish.”

This didn’t deter Bulma, and she continued. “... You also said that you understood why I jumped out of the plane, so you must be good compared to the guy coming after-“

Suddenly she felt herself being pressed against a tree, and the air came shooting out from her lungs as she gasped. It wasn’t that the Bluehead was in pain, for she’d been handled rather gently, but she was incredibly startled. It never ceased to amaze her with how fast he could move, and she hadn’t seen it coming at all. Wide eyed and panting, Bulma was staring straight into the eyes of Vegeta, who had pushed her into the tree, and was now standing dangerously close to her face as he reared his teeth. “Get it through your Earthling brain.” He growled, putting a palm against the tree at the side of her head. “Where I am from, there is no right and wrong. There is only disorder and pain. We are all creatures of survival, and those that you want to claim are _good_ merely have less evil in their blood than the others. But there is still bad – we are _all_ inherently evil.”

Bulma was still silently panting from the intensity of the situation, as Vegeta furrowed his brows and deepened his glare. She felt his breath slapping her in the face, could smell his scent even, but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. She wasn’t frightened, but something about him being this _close_ was making her uncomfortable... Kami, he was _incredibly_ close!

“It is wise not to trust me.” He continued, leaning further in. “Don’t start twisting my actions into something that they aren’t. Where I am from, there is _only evil_. Do you understand? Assuming we are capable of anything else is dangerous. It’s the fastest way to get yourself killed...”

He stared into her eyes for a few seconds more, allowing his words to sink in. Slowly, after what felt like minutes, he calmly eased back. Bringing his hand down from the tree and stepping away from the Bluehead, he let out another growl. Without another word he turned on his heel and continued his walk through the woods, leaves crunching under his feet as he went.

Her mouth hanging open, Bulma began to follow after, but didn’t speak anything more. His words replayed in her mind like a riddle, and as she continued clambering through the brush in an attempt to keep up with the saiyan, she used the rest of her walk trying to piece together its meaning...

 _‘Evil.’_ She thought… What he said just didn’t make any sense. Surely if the other guy was evil, and Vegeta’s aim was to defeat him, then that meant he saw the wrong and was wanting to resolve it. Wouldn’t that make him the good guy - or at least, as close to good as he could get, for being such a brutal murderer?

“Stand back.” Vegeta said suddenly, and Bulma looked up to see a large winged lizard that was twice as tall as her parent’s house. It was howling as it slammed its scaly arms against the trees, obviously unhappy with being disturbed. Bulma screamed as a large ledge fell out of one of the trees, jumping back to keep from being hit by it.

“I told you to stand back!” Vegeta barked, jumping to avoid being swiped with its angry tail.

“Leave me alone! I’m trying!” Bulma snapped, running to a tree and hiding behind it for cover. The lizard seemed to have set its focus on her, its large eyes following her as she ran. The monster let out another howl, the wings on its back flapping as it began to stomp towards her. The ground shook as it moved, threatening to knock the Bluehead on her rear as she clung to the tree for support.

“Hey!” Vegeta yelled, firing a blast at the monster’s rear to regain its attention. The lizard ignored him, stepping even closer towards Bulma as she backed away further. The Bluehead scooted away, watching as trees fell in the wake of the lizard’s path. She could hear Vegeta yelling something, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying over the sound of the destruction. As the creature gained on her, she attempted to move to take cover behind a different tree. The ground was rattling too much, however, and Bulma found herself losing her balance.

She let out a gasp as she fell back on her rear, opening her eyes just in time to see a giant scaly hand reaching down for her. As the lizard lifted her up towards his face, Bulma could hear Vegeta yelling something again down below. This time she had trouble hearing him over the wind that was flaring from the creature’s nostrils.

“Damn, I _hate_ lizards!” Vegeta was cursing. He’d already attempted to get its attention by firing blasts at its legs and even punching it, but the reptile was too fixated on Bulma to care. This lizard was about the same size as Vegeta was when he took on his Ozaru form, its upper body towering over the tree tops as it held Bulma in the air. The saiyan hadn’t been expecting that reptiles of such size even resided on this disgusting planet! It was going to require more than a few punches to bring it down, but now it had the Woman. He was going to have to be even more careful to make sure that she wasn’t harmed in the crossfire!

The lizard was stomping away now, flicking its wings threatening as if it would take off into the sky at any minute.

‘ _Damned Woman!’_ Vegeta thought. Why hadn’t she listened when he’d been yelling at her to take cover behind him?!

“ _Veggie!”_ He could hear her shouting. “Ve-ggie! **_Help!_** _”_

“Stupid reptile!” The saiyan grunted, taking off into the air for it. He flew around the two to approach the creature from the front, moving straight for the hand that was currently holding Bulma. Her upper torso was poking out from its closed fist, her arms pinned to her side under its grip. When she looked up to see Vegeta, the two locked eyes and she smiled. “I just need my arms to be free!”

He didn’t understand why she was saying this. _Of course_ he was going to free her from this lizard’s clutches, and _of course_ that would include her arms! His eyes never leaving her own, the saiyan raised an arm and fired a blast into the lizard’s right eye.

It let out a howl and dropped Bulma so it could scratch at its injured eye, and she let out a shattering scream as she began to fall. Vegeta went right after her, catching her in midair before she had a chance to hit the ground. She landed in his arms with a thud. Rather than appreciate her sudden safety, the Bluehead began to instantly squirm against his hold.

“Stop, Woman! Keep still!” Vegeta growled. The creature had turned and was now starting to come after them. He was trying to keep her stable enough in his grip that she wouldn’t fall when he lifted an arm to send another blast at the lizard.

Bulma did not cease in her squirming, though. Just as the saiyan was about to scold her again, he watched as she reached her arm out and threw something at the lizard. Vegeta’s eyes followed the object, immediately recognizing it as the same type of contraption that the vehicles and house were all stored in. The small ball hit the lizard, erupting into a yellow cloud. From the smoke appeared a large net, which fell across the lizard’s shoulders and torso.

Vegeta’s eyes widened as he watched. Sparks were starting to shoot from the net, radiating around the reptile as it croaked. The saiyan could feel Bulma’s nails digging into his forearm. She turned her head away and cringed at the sound of the creature’s screams. Vegeta looked down at the girl in his arms, feeling utterly amazed as the giant lizard was electrocuted right in front of them. He could feel her heart racing as her chest pressed against him, could hear her panting as she fought to gain control of her nerves.

It took several minutes for it to happen, but when the lizard finally stopped with its cries and fell back with another rattling thud, Bulma’s grip on the saiyan suddenly softened. Still feeling bewildered, his eyes moved to her fingers then, as if only noticing for the first time that she’d even been gripping him…

“Hmph! Serves him right!” She huffed as Vegeta set her down on her feet. He began to walk towards the recently fried creature, and he had to lock his jaw to keep his mouth from hanging open. _‘She had a plan.’_ He thought, thinking back on how she’d screamed that she’d needed her arms freed. When he had caught her and felt her thrashing against him, he’d assumed that she’d just been in frightened hysterics. But – _damn –_ she’d had a plan.

“Well, would you look at that.” Bulma was saying tiredly as she collected the net back into its capsule. “Turns out we didn’t have to hunt for food, after all. The meal came to us.”

“ _As if.”_ The saiyan scowled. He had meant to question her about all of those little capsules she kept throwing, and about the net that had just killed this creature, but the suggestion of _devouring_ it had suddenly soured his mood. “We will _not_ be eating this tonight.”

Bulma was slightly relieved to hear this. She wasn’t very fond of interacting with her dinner before eating it. But she turned to the man anyway, grinning. “ _Really?_ But it’s already _cooked!”_ She joked, and it really made her laugh to see Vegeta’s consequential gag.

“I _hate_ reptiles!” He spat. “ _Especially_ lizards!”

“ _Really?”_ Bulma repeated, raising an eyebrow now. “I had no idea you were afraid of-“

“I am anything BUT afraid!” Vegeta barked. “I absolutely _detest_ reptiles to the fullest extent! I will _never_ be putting any part of one in my mouth, and that has _nothing_ to do with fear!”

It seemed that Bulma’s teasing had put Vegeta in a bad mood. She had obviously hit another sensitive spot for the saiyan. The two remained silent for a few moments, as Bulma tucked the capsule back into her belt bag and dusted the claw prints off her shirt. Up until that point, her back had actually started to feel a lot better after using the ointment that Vegeta had given her, but there were still some raw spots that she hadn’t been able to reach. It didn’t help matters that the damned lizard had scratched some of her blisters, too.

When the Bluehead turned back to the saiyan, she saw him standing against a tree with his arms crossed. A scowl planted across his features. “Hey.” She finally said. “Don’t be upset.” It was obvious that there was something more to reptiles than she knew. Judging by the look on his face, she hadn’t _just_ hit a raw spot for him. Evidently, she’d hit a deep wound. Some kind of past trauma, perhaps?

Vegeta grunted, pushing himself from the tree.

“I’m sorry, really.” Bulma continued with a soft smile. “I was only making a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it, honestly. I know you aren’t afraid.”

“ _Of course_ I’m unafraid of lizards!” Vegeta growled, spitting in the direction of the lifeless monster that was laying close to them.

“Did something happen with one?” She replied. She thought she may be close to crossing another line, but the passion in his voice encouraged her to press on. Instead of snarling a response at her, like the Bluehead might have expected, Vegeta almost smirked. “You could say _that_ if you want to put it lightly.”

The two had begun walking through the woods again, Bulma at his side instead of trailing behind like before. They went in silence for a few minutes before she decided to speak once more. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Hmm.”

That was all she got. Feeling confused, and perhaps a bit awkward, Bulma accepted this. She continued making her way alongside him without speaking another word. It seemed that Vegeta was deep in thought. Whatever she had spurred in his mind, she had finally decided to let it be. She had no intention to press him any further, so it came as a surprise when he spoke up on his own. “I will spare you the details of it, because we don’t need any distractions. All you need to know is that the dragonballs will play a part in this. There is one lizard in particular that needs to be stopped.”

“ _What?”_ Bulma furrowed her eyebrows. Now she was even more curious, and even more confused. “What on _Earth_ are you talking about?” She gasped. The was the second time in an hour that she felt as if he’d just recited some type of riddle to her.

“Don’t concern yourself with it. You’ve already asked enough. Just know that lizards are _not_ to be trusted, but none of that shall matter once we retrieve the last ball.”

Bulma nodded as if she understood, dropping her head to eye her feet as she continued to walk. She thought Vegeta had said that he needed the dragonballs because someone was coming after him, hadn’t he? Where on Earth did lizards fit into that equation? Had the person who was chasing Vegeta tortured him with lizards? But, that sounded so ridiculous! _What on Earth was going on?!_

“And anyway, Woman. I have something else to say to you.”

The Bluehead looked up from her feet, raising her eyebrows. The man standing beside her was usually so quiet and introverted. He certainly was talking a lot tonight!

“What was it you were saying when that disgusting thing grabbed you? _Veggie?_ Don’t call me that again.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t even thought about it at the time! It had only come out of her mouth as she cried for him to help, and using the name _Veggie_ had felt completely natural! She told him this, and had to stifle a giggle when she saw his face wrinkle into another gag.

“My name is Vegeta, understand? I am **_not_** _Veggie._ ” He growled, not seeing anything amusing in this exchange.

“And _my_ name is not Woman.” Bulma replied. She had obviously not meant anything with her slip of tongue, but the fact that he seemed so defensive about the matter was too ridiculous for her to take. This man tried to act so hardened and strong. Why would someone who was as brutal as he claimed to be get so worked up over simply being called _Veggie!_ It should be so petty in comparison to anything he’d encountered before! How amazing was this?!

‘ _Whatever, Vegeta.’_ She thought as she shook her head and looked back down to her feet. ‘ _There’s obviously more to you than you’re letting on…’_

.

It was noon the next day, and already Bulma was exhausted. They hadn’t finished collecting food and eating until about 10PM the night before, and they had set up camp not far from where the next dragonball was to be found. It had taken even longer for the Bluehead to attempt to rub more ointment into her wounded back. By this point it was established that Vegeta had claimed the bedroom for himself, so Bulma set up a makeshift bed on the couch, and it seemed like hours before she could clear her mind enough to fall asleep.

As it seemed to be his routine, Vegeta had woken her up before the sun had even risen in the sky, barking that they needed to get started on their journey before too much time was wasted. The Bluehead dragged herself out of the couch she’d been sleeping on, groaning as her mind adjusted to her surroundings. She had protested that they could continue to sleep for _at least_ another two hours, but of course Vegeta had declined it.

This next dragonball was retrieved without any incident. They traced it to a mountain that was located in the forest. Rather than hiking their way to the ball, Vegeta had decided that they would save time in flying up the side of the mountain instead. He was right, of course!

And, by the time they found the ball neatly tucked underneath a bird’s nest, the Bluehead’s stomach was starting to growl with the need of a meal. This was great, considering the fact that Vegeta seemed to _always_ be hungry, and seemed rather excited as he flew them both back to their capsule house.

Feeling tired and ready for a nap, Bulma took a sip of the soup that was bubbling on the stove. Vegeta was in the other room. He had told the Bluehead that he needed to workout on a regular basis, something he referred to as “ _training”._ At the moment he was currently working through a series of pushups, sit-ups, pull-ups, and whatever else it was that he did in the privacy of his room…

She was standing in front of the window in the kitchen, setting the spoon she’d been using to stir the stew aside. Bulma was about to turn and make her way for the couch when something outside caught her eye. It was a flash of orange, and for a moment she felt déjà vu. A very familiar memory played in her mind then, images from her past… The Bluehead paused in place. ‘ _No.’_ She thought, taking a step towards the window and getting a good look outside. ‘ _There’s no way… It couldn’t have been…’_


	6. The Secret Project

* * *

It had been several minutes that Bulma had been sitting on the couch, squeezing one of the cushions as she listened to both Vegeta grunting through his exercises from the other room and the stew that was bubbling on the stove in the kitchen. There was a sinking feeling in her gut as the flash of orange she'd seen at the window replayed in her mind.

' _It couldn't be…'_ She thought, her cheeks flushing as she shook her head. Any of the three men she knew who would be wearing something like that were all dead. Perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her? Perhaps she was way too tired, after all!

But still, the nagging feeling in her gut wouldn't subside. Finally, after what seemed like minutes of trying to get a grip, Bulma took a deep breath and pulled herself up to her feet. Something was telling her to go outside and see if _anyone_ was out there, and as much as she told herself not to be so wistful, the sensation just wouldn't go away. If all it would take was for her to look around the perimeters of the capsule house for her anxiety to subside, then she'd do it. Just as Bulma was about to make her way across the room, the bedroom door flew open, and out stepped Vegeta.

The first thing she noticed was that his head was dropped so he was looking at his feet, and his body language told her that he was in a foul mood. This was enough to catch her attention, for he had seemed nearly _happy_ when he'd closed himself off in the room for his workout an hour earlier. Before he'd began his workout, Vegeta had been _almost_ cheerful about the retrieval of another dragonball and the idea of soon being able to eat a warm cooked meal.

 _Now_ he appeared to be nothing short of angry, and the saiyan stepped to the side to walk past Bulma without even looking her way. She watched as Vegeta marched through the small house, grabbing an entire melon from the refrigerator and carrying it to the small table that was set up in the space between the kitchen and the living room. As Bulma watched, he sat down, placing the melon in front of him. Without even a sigh of hesitation, Vegeta slammed his fist down on the fruit and cracked it open.

The Bluehead almost stepped forward to give him a lecture about making a mess, but she quickly remembered that she was dealing with someone who likely couldn't care less. So, she raised an eyebrow and sat back on the couch instead. As she watched, he lifted the melon and devoured its insides with one swift action, leaving only a green shell as its remnants. He wiped at his mouth with his forearm, pushing himself back in his seat and finally looking up at Bulma as if he were expecting her to speak. Recognizing this invitation, she stepped from the couch and made her way into the kitchen. She glanced down at the pot of stew that was still bubbling on the stove. "Well, I would ask if you even still had an appetite after that, but I know you do." She grabbed two bowls from the cupboard, filling them both to the brim with steaming meaty broth before placing them on the table. Without missing a beat she turned back for the kitchen to grab a couple of spoons.

Vegeta had gulped the entirety of his bowl before Bulma even had a chance to give him the silverware. "Do you want more?" She asked, and he only responded with a quiet nod. A minute later, and Bulma was sitting across from the saiyan as he furiously chowed through his second bowl.

 _He was such a strange specimen_ , she couldn't help but think, as he glared down as the dishware and sat in his obvious frustration. He was still blatantly angry about something, though he hadn't said anything snide to her because of it. This wasn't the first time she had noticed him channeling his pent up anger on other things rather than take it out on her. In one instance it had been by blasting down numerous trees, and now he was doing it by stuffing his face with food.

Wouldn't it be more than easy to lash out at her, instead? Not that Bulma wanted him to - but _hadn't he kidnapped her?_ Wasn't she, by all definitions of the word, currently a hostage? It was strange that he was acting so – well, _careful._

_Why should he even care enough to consider her in his rage?_

"Did something happen?" She asked, and it came out as an urgent blurt of thought that made her own eyes widen to hear.

Vegeta looked up at her and raised an eyebrow at the genuine curiosity in her tone.

"Not that I care." Bulma gasped, hoping she sounded convincing. She didn't know _why_ she cared about what had happened to this man. She shouldn't be curious _at all_ about what had occurred during his workout to make him so bitter - and yet she was... _But why?!_

"You say you don't care, and yet you asked." Vegeta folded his arms across his chest, nearly looking at her with suspicion.

"I only ask because you make it so obvious that something's bothering you." Bulma replied, lips pursed. He was still watching her with that raised brow. It was making her flush, and yet she couldn't even tear her gaze away. _Kami –_ why couldn't he _at least_ lower that damned eyebrow?!

"And yet you don't care..." The saiyan cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"You said you were in there to do some training." Bulma said, and by now she was just speaking whatever came to her mind. She was hoping that whatever she said would start to piece together into something. At least if that happened it would look like her question had been related to a train of thought, rather than an impulsive act that had been spurred by her confused mind!

"I must always train." Vegeta said flatly, and then his face dropped into a deeper scowl than he'd already been sporting "Even if my resources are limited..."

"Oh! I get it now!"

Vegeta, who now almost resembled a spoiled child with how deeply he was pouting, shot the Bluehead a quizzical look.

"I had a friend named Goku." She said. It was with this simple sentence that he could suddenly detect the hint of a quiver in her voice. It was when she spoke that name – _Goku –_ that he heard the most pain. "He worked out all the time. He called it training, just like you do. He always told me, even in times of peace, that he trained because it was what he was compelled to do. Almost as if it was in his blood. It was as natural to him as breathing and eating."

Despite how bitter he was, Vegeta could feel a smirk threatening his cheek muscles. It was interesting to hear her description of the lower class saiyan who had failed at his mission long ago. It was clear that she knew nothing of his heritage, nor his planet, and yet she spoke of this _Goku_ as if she were gifting him on some type of inside knowledge. If only she knew…

"Goku was dedicated to his strength. And he was the strongest man I knew. You remind me a lot of him in certain ways, though I can't put my finger on how."

"Funny you should say so." Vegeta couldn't fight the smirk any longer, and he was now looking at her with marked amusement as she continued to babble with such clear ignorance. What the hell had _"Goku"_ done during his time on this planet? And how had the two become so close, anyway?

"Actually, I was working on some plans for him before he suddenly got so sick." Despite how sad it made her to replay her friend's ailment, it still made her happy to remember her special project, and Bulma's voice began to cheer. "I wonder if it would be beneficial to you, now that Goku won't be around to use it."

" _Plans?"_ Now, _this_ peaked his interest. No longer feeling quite so amused, it was suddenly time to get to business. Vegeta leaned forward in his chair. "What kind of plans?"

"I was still in the early stages when Goku contracted his heart virus." Bulma replied, sounding almost robotic as she worked her way through detailing the illness. "I had been keeping it a secret... I wanted it to be a surprise. He would have loved it! Well - if you allow me the time I need for it, I can try to complete the schematics and finalize the project for you, instead."

"And what is the project, exactly?" Vegeta's brain was racing with the sudden possibilities, and he nearly felt ecstatic. He knew this woman came from some type of elite family of technologists. He had no doubt that whatever it was she'd been working on, it would be worth his time.

"I don't really want to say what it is, yet." Bulma said. "I don't believe in sharing details until I am at least 80% done. Call me superstitious, but I just think it's bad practice. It's preparing everyone involved for disappointment."

"Hmm." Vegeta narrowed his eyes with a growl, shifting his weight to the side as his mood suddenly dropped again. He hated to be declined of something he was asking for, and especially if it would supposedly help him with his training. He was too impatient to wait! He needed to know _now!_

"I need time to work on it." Bulma repeated. "If you're interested, then that means you need to take over some of the traveling duties. I can't fly the plane and work at the same time."

"Hmm." Vegeta growled again, plainly deep in thought. "So, what you are saying is that this may inhibit our search for the dragonballs."

"We've already found two, and it's only been a few days." Bulma offered. "Our progress may slow a little, but it isn't as if we're making bad time. We'll still get them."

"Right." He growled again, growing increasingly irritated with what he was about to agree to. "Alright, then. But I want to know what this is within 7 days. If you won't tell me by then, this project is going to be abandoned."

"I can get a lot done when I'm able to focus." The Bluehead shrugged. She was speaking with such a matter-of-fact tone that it made Vegeta's eyelid twitch. "And why do you want to get this done at all?" He challenged, still unhappy with this decision he had found himself making.

"Oh!" Bulma, who had been leaning across the table, fell back into her seat. _This_ was enough to wipe that blank expression from her face!

 _Why did she care about this?_ _Why_ _ **should**_ _she care!?_ Now that she thought about it, she had absolutely no idea – it'd simply been something she'd been _compelled_ to do! And what more, why was she nearly _giddy_ at this prospect?!

She must have been sporting her flustered thoughts on her face, for Vegeta simply let out a sarcastic chuckle instead of demanding a reply. Her cheeks reddened as she watched him rise from his seat. "You might as well get started on it, then. I'm going to shower."

.

As Vegeta began his shower, Bulma walked to the intercom of the house and clicked it on. If she was going to resume working on these plans, she'd need her father's help to get started.

The monitor of the phone system let out a soft buzzing noise, static rippling across the screen. "Damn!" Bulma snapped. She slapped a hand over the top of the monitor, as if this would resolve the issue. "I forgot this thing was fried! Why didn't I fix this weeks ago?!"

The monitor continued to buzz, despite her whacking. The Bluehead bit her lip and reached into her belt bag of capsules. It took several seconds of digging around, but finally she pulled out a capsule that she recognized to contain her mobile phone. It was a large and clunky phone, one of her early prototypes that she'd created before perfecting the programming. It could work without radio towers, with signals so strong that it would bounce to whomever she was calling, regardless of distance. It worked, but the reception was shotty. It was a backup that she kept handy in the event that her main phone was ever rendered useless.

She'd have to step outside for the call to go through, and even then the reception would be choppy if there were too many clouds out. Now that Vegeta had approved her the time she needed to get some mechanical work done, Bulma made a mental note to work on the house's phone system as a side project as she stepped onto the grass.

It was when the Bluehead took a few more steps away from the house, clicking a few buttons on her phone and listening to see if the call went through, that she heard a noise. Having been distracted with her own thoughts, when the bushes near her rustled so suddenly Bulma couldn't help but the back away with a scream.

"Hey, hey!" Krillin's frantic voice whispered, waving his hands desperately to try and keep her calm. "Bulma! It's me! Quick - there's no time! We need to get out of here!"

Clutching her phone as if it would be the voice of reason, the Bluehead stared at the Z Fighter with wide eyes. Slowly, after a few seconds, she shook her head. "N-No." Was all she said, still processing the scene as the denial began to set in. "You can't be - I saw it. You were killed."

"No I wasn't. I had a senzu bean!" Krillin breathed. "Look, Bulma. I sensed you last night. I know something happened that was freaking you out, and I came as quick as I could. Yamcha's at the hospital - we need to get you there. He's desperate to see you!"

Bulma looked at the phone she was holding, taking a deep breath as she turned to eye Krillin again. "Yamcha... lives?"

"Yes, but I didn't have a good senzu bean for him. He'll be recovering at the hospital for weeks! Now, come on! Before we get caught. We need to go!"

"No." She breathed again, shocked at herself even as she spoke. This just didn't add up - it didn't make sense. Something about this just felt _wrong._

" _No?!"_ Krillin echoed, losing his ability to keep his voice down. He hadn't expected this at all. "What do you mean _**no**_?!"

"I'm not going back to Yamcha. I want to stay here. I'll be fine." She continued, looking back down at her phone. "I'm glad you two are okay, but I have something I need to do. You should leave before anything happens."

"Wh-Bu-Sh-PFFT!" The Z Fighter stuttered, nearly falling on his back. "Bulma! _He tried to kill me!_ He's going to kill you! You're in _danger!_ "

"He didn't kill you." She replied, glaring at her phone and punching a button on it. "And he won't hurt me, either."

"Didn't you listen to me?! I'm alive because I had a senzu bean!"

"And because he held back." She gave her phone a firm shake before giving its antennae a firm tug.

"Bulma, look! You're not thinking straight right now. It's probably from stress. Just come with me. I can get you out of here."

"No, Krillin. I can't."

" _Yes you can,_ don't worry! We just need to get far away and we'll come up with a plan."

"But I can't…"

"Bulma! Listen to me!" Krillin shook his head. "We need to go! Yamcha's worried sick about you! I already told you that we felt your ki spiking yesterday. We knew something bad was happening! You're in danger!"

"Well, that's true – I _was_ in danger – but it wasn't Vegeta." She scowled at her phone before putting it back in its capsule. It was clearly too cloudy to be of any use right now. "Vegeta's the one who saved me. Look, Krillin… I really don't _want_ to go…"

"I'm assuming that _Vegeta_ is the name of that guy who tried to _**kill**_ me?" Krillin raised an eyebrow. Why was he even having to try to convince her? He'd assumed she'd be happy to see him, and that she'd be desperate to get away!

She looked up at the Z-Fighter, but before Bulma even had a chance to respond she saw Krillin's eyes widen. He quickly looked towards the house. "He's coming!" He whispered. "Quick, act like I wasn't here!" And, with that, he dove into a nearby shrub, leaving Bulma standing alone. And, just as Krillin had predicted, the Bluehead listened as the door to the house opened and Vegeta stepped out into the yard.

She turned towards him to see as he marched across the grass. He didn't look angry, but he didn't look happy either. He had a serious expression on his face, and he was staring into Bulma's eyes as he made his way for her. The Bluehead's heart jolted. The shock had sudden worn away, and now the intensity of the situation was sinking in.

"Hello, Woman." Vegeta said, his eyes never leaving hers.

The Bluehead bit her lip. Now that she thought about it, it seemed that _every_ time they were speaking he was staring into her eyes… It was intimidating, yet bewildering at the same time. It always seemed to leave her searching for words when she realized how long he could go without blinking.

"Tell me…" He continued, looking over her shoulder as he broke eye contact to scan her surroundings. "Where is the man that I _tried to kill_ , as he put it?"

"You heard that?" She gasped. She couldn't even think of a way to respond – they hadn't been talking very loudly. _How had he heard?_

"Hm," Vegeta stepped around her and peered at the shrubs. "It seems he'd have nowhere else to take cover…" He muttered, before shooting an arm into the leaves. Bulma cringed, listening as Krillin let out a yelp and was pulled out from the oversized bushes. It seemed that the Z-Fighter knew it would be futile to attempt to fight back, his body limp as the saiyan dragged him out into the open.

"Tell me." Vegeta was saying to him. "How did you find us?" He was speaking authoritatively, though he wasn't necessarily yelling. Krillin cringed as Vegeta squeezed his arm. "Answer me."

"I have my ways." Krillin replied, letting out a gasp when Vegeta finally dropped him and stepped back. "Elaborate." He said. "Do it now, before my patience wears thin and I start to lose my temper. I will grant you a favor and warn you that I'm already in a bad mood."

"I'm not here for a fight, okay! I just came to get Bulma back." Krillin balled his hands into fists. "You may have caught me off guard before, but I came prepared this time. Just let Bulma go, and there will be no trouble!"

"Hm. Well, from what I heard, she doesn't want to go with you." Vegeta said, smirking as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Now stop acting like a fool and tell me how you found us."

"Krillin." Bulma said. She was starting to feel worried as she stepped forward. "It's okay, really. Just tell him. Please…"

Flabbergasted, the Z-Fighter was now looking from Bulma to Vegeta, and back to Bulma again. She seemed to be serious, but she was also good at lying when she needed to. It was hard to tell whether she was just saying what she _thought_ Vegeta wanted to hear, or if she was being truthful, or if it was something in between. What if he had brainwashed her? What if she _believed_ that she didn't want to go, but in reality her mind was distorted?!

"He can sense ki." Bulma finally announced, taking matters into her own hands before it had a chance to escalate any further. "They all can. He was able to find us because he tracked our life auras."

"Really?" Vegeta appeared to be shocked, but a moment later his expression turned to anger. "You mean to tell me you can read power levels without a scouter?! How?!"

"I can't tell you how – it's just something I can do!" Krillin shot back. He turned to Bulma, now looking almost desperate. "Are you _sure_ you don't even _want_ to leave?"

"You heard her. She doesn't want to go." Vegeta growled, narrowing his eyes as Krillin flustered his way through a response. He looked to Bulma, who smiled with a reassuring nod. "Really, Krillin. I'm fine. We're making good time with the dragonballs, and we'll be done before long. Just go back."

"That's fine if you really feel that way, but Yamcha isn't going to buy it!" Krillin finally sputtered. "He won't accept that answer, you know!"

"Oh?" Vegeta crossed his arms with a smirk. "And where is this _Yamcha?_ " He scoffed. "If that man is so concerned, why is he not here now?"

Krillin let out a growl, showing the whites of his teeth as he grinded them together. He didn't want to admit that Yamcha was still recovering from the fight they'd had a few days ago. He wouldn't state such a thing to the man who had done it! "He would be here if he could!"

"You tell that-" Vegeta began, but Bulma was quick to cut him off, not caring to listen to another one of the saiyan's dramatic threats.

"Krillin," She began, and she said it with enough authority that both men turned towards her in surprise. "You tell Yamcha that it's none of his business _what_ I do. You tell him that I appreciate his concern, but I'm smart enough to think for myself. It's an insult to my intelligence that you don't seem to think I have accessed the situation and come to my own conclusion. If Yamcha doesn't want to accept my decisions either, then that's his problem, but he's going to have to get over it."

"Bulma," Krillin breathed. "This isn't just another one of you guys' spats. You _know_ what happened back at Goku's house."

"I _thought_ I knew what happened, and obviously I was wrong. So, no. I don't know what happened. Not at all. But what I _do_ know is what has happened since we began looking for those dragon balls, and that's something that neither of you two do."

Krillin was dumbfounded. With his mouth hanging open, he looked back to Vegeta, who was still sporting a smug smirk. With a sigh, he dropped his head. "We're keeping tabs on you." He finally said. "If I sense any more distress, that's it. We're taking you home."

"I'd like to see you try." Vegeta scoffed.

"Just watch yourself." Krillin continued, this time directing his words at the saiyan in front of him. With that, he took off into the sky, Vegeta shaking his head as he went. "That pathetic man knows perfectly well that he wouldn't last a second if he was engaged in a serious battle with me." He growled. "And you." He said, turning on Bulma and making immediate eye contact with her. "You aren't any better than him."

"Me?!" She snapped. "What did I do?!" How was she suddenly on the defense? If anything, she had sided with Vegeta during this!

"I told you yesterday not to romanticize matters or fool yourself into believing in good when there is none to depend on." Vegeta said, taking a step towards her. "It's obvious that you didn't listen. You should have been eager to make your escape with that pathetic man, and yet you turned him away before you were even aware that I knew he was here."

"How dare you?!" Bulma spat back. "This is the thanks I get?! If anything, you should be flattered that I wanted to stay and work on the project instead! And what good would it have done me to try and get away, anyway?!"

"Hm." Vegeta growled. "If I really hadn't known that he was here, I would still be in the shower. You two could have made it across the globe by the time I found out."

"Oh?" Bulma snapped. "And then what?! You know where my parents live! You could easily track us down!"

"But you would know enough to not go back to your parents' home." He spat. "You could easily find a unsuspicious place to hide for the rest of your life."

"And?!" Bulma retorted. What was this becoming?! He'd made a point in threatening her countless times not to even attempt an escape, and now that she had been presented with an opportunity she had turned it down. He should have been pleased about that - not mad at her!

"AND it is clear to me that your survival instincts are void." He growled. "Just a few days ago you jumped out of a plane to attempt a getaway. What happened to that?!"

"I don't know what happened!" She shot back. She hated this – why, she _resented it._ She couldn't answer his questions, and she knew he was making good points. But still, he didn't have to be such a jerk about it. She didn't think she'd done anything wrong. Why should _he_ care so much, anyway?! She'd chosen to _stay!_

" _There is no good!_ Do you understand me!?" He was nearly yelling now. "You cannot depend on such idiotic things!"

"Oh, just shut up!" The Bluehead barked. She turned and began to storm for the house.

"I mean it, Woman!" He snapped back, going after her. The two stormed inside, with Bulma slamming the door shut behind them.

"My name is not _Woman!"_ She shouted. "And you're going to apologize to me before I even think of working on that project now!"

"What?!" Vegeta's angry demeanor quickly dissipated as his mouth dropped open. The gall of this woman! Who did she think she was!?

"You have the nerve to call someone like _me_ an idiot?! Why should I work on something so _genius_ for you if you can't even recognize how smart I am!?" She yelled. "You're going to apologize to me, right now!"

"You're kidding!" The saiyan's lip twitched.

"You think I'm joking?! Well, think again!" She tossed her hair over her shoulder and stormed for the bathroom. "I don't care if you got to finish your shower or not. _I'm_ going to take a bath. And when I get out, you'd better have an apology ready, or I'm not going to work on it at all!"

And, with that, she marched for the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Vegeta's face twisted as he listened to the water starting to run. "What…" He breathed. "What a _strange_ woman!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this one!  
> By the way, do you have any suggestions on tags? I’m terrible at coming up with them and I would love pointers!


	7. Reaching Out

* * *

When Bulma stepped out of the bathroom an hour later she saw that Vegeta had locked himself into the bedroom. She loudly stomped past the door to make her presence known, letting out a shrill "hmph!" as she went.

It was still early in the afternoon. With nothing else to do, Bulma began to angrily clean the kitchen. She forcefully cleared the table, dropping the dishes into the sink before running water over them. Grunting under her breath as she worked, the Bluehead was still seething as she scrubbed at the bowls that had been used an hour earlier. It was only a few minutes later that bedroom door opened on the other end of the house. She began to scrub even harder, pretending not to hear as footsteps traveled across the floor.

And when she heard him taking a seat at the table, she angrily began to rinse the dishes off. With nothing else to focus on, she grabbed a rag and began to dry the bowls, rubbing so hard that her knuckles were aching. "So!" She finally said, after growing tired of waiting for him to speak the first word. "Do you have anything you want to say to me?"

Rather than offering a verbal response, a low growl could be heard coming from the man sitting at the table. Bulma placed the dishes in the cupboard before finally turning around to shoot a glare at the saiyan. "That's all?" She put a hand on her hip.

"I am not going to apologize." He muttered, scowling back at her.

"Hmph! It figures you wouldn't!" Bulma turned her nose up to the ceiling, flipping her hair back for the second time that day. "You won't apologize, and I won't be bothered with that silly project, then!"

"First of all, you will not dictate what I do!" Vegeta slapped a palm down on the table's surface.

The Bluehead was unbothered by the loud noise it made. "And I won't do something if I don't want to."

"Second of all, I didn't say _you_ were an idiot!" He spat. "I just said it is idiotic to be so damned wistful!"

"Well, you might as well be calling me an idiot if you're going to say things like that!" Bulma shot back. "You were talking about my actions, weren't you?! And I'm not going to stand for it!"

"I didn't call you an idiot, just so we're clear. And what I did say was for your own good." He growled. "You may think I'm an _asshole_ , as you so bluntly put it yesterday, but you haven't even begun to see what this universe is capable of."

"So?! What? Is that a threat?!" Bulma narrowed her eyes, looking more irked than scared.

"A day may come that you will be facing the eyes of true malevolence. Trusting that there is any good will only result in exploitation and pain." He snapped. "You need to learn to take things for what they are! When someone shows you what they are capable of, you must accept that instead of searching for what isn't there."

"Oh? And whenever I've been doing that lately, I've ended up being wrong. You supposedly killed my two friends, and that turned out to be a lie! Didn't it?"

"Woman," Vegeta growled.

"I'm making my own decisions!" Bulma was yelling now. "I've seen for myself that not every assumption I had going into this was true! It doesn't mean I'm doing anything stupid by thinking there's more to all of this than I realize!"

"Woman!"

"I chose to stay, and that doesn't mean I believe anything in you! It just means that I'm smart enough to know that there's a lot I _don't_ know!"

"Damnit, Woman!" Vegeta shouted. "Stop yelling and calm down!"

Bulma jumped from the boom in his voice, but the rage in her eyes didn't cease. She bit her lip, her petite frame trembling as she fought to reel in her temper. Vegeta watched her, fighting to keep his own cool. He didn't do well with being yelled at, and the only thing that helped him keep control of his fury was that it was slightly amusing to watch her shake so fiercely as she struggled through her emotions.

Why, it was nearly comical! This woman looked like she was about to pop!

Her face was starting to sport a bright shade of pink, as she held her breath and tried to count backwards in her head. None of her efforts really worked to subdue her stress, though. Suddenly it all boiled over, and the Bluehead let out a yell so loud that it had Vegeta clutching at his ears and cursing about banshees.

"YOU ARE SUCH A JERK!" She crowed.

"WOMAN! CALM DOWN!" Vegeta barked back.

"MY NAME IS NOT _WOMAN!"_ She threw her hands up in the air and turned from the room. Her feet slammed across the wooden floor as she made for the bathroom again. With only one bedroom that Vegeta had already claimed, the bathroom was the only part of the house that she could find privacy in. "MY NAME IS _BULMA!"_

.

Sitting alone in his room, Vegeta kept his eyes closed as he meditated in silence. He'd been so taken aback by the Bluehead's words that he'd let the short man go rather easily. He should have interrogated him instead – he should have demanded to know how exactly tracking ki worked! The saiyan was now bitterly regretting his impulsive decision to focus his anger towards the Bluehead instead.

How in _Frieza's Rear_ could one detect ki without a scouter?!

The fact that such a weak man was capable of such a thing was frustrating enough. But, never mind that. If an overgrown child could manage such a thing, then surely the prince of all saiyans could master it, too. He'd just never been aware of such a concept – that was all! Perhaps he's grown soft in depending on technology – perhaps, by getting reliant on the scouter, he'd been holding himself back from natural advancements…

… All he needed to do was train himself...

And he'd already started. Back in the kitchen, when Bulma let loose like a boiling puppet, Vegeta had _sensed_ it. He'd been practicing even then, reaching out to see if he could recognize her aura as she quivered with uncontrollable rage.

It was much different than using a scouter, but he'd certainly sensed something in that room. It was much different than a power reading on a screen. Rather than a level that could be quantified with _numbers_ , her ki had come to him as a _feeling._

He'd _felt_ it.

And, though it had taken all of his concentration, and it had also taken her to reach the peak of rage, he considered this to be a success.

With time, this exercise would surely become easier.

Vegeta opened his eyes from his meditative trance, staring at the door and remembering how fiery the Bluehead's aura had felt an hour earlier. Perhaps it was because he knew what to look for, but as he concentrated, he could swear that he could sense her again.

The aura was much less hostile than it had been earlier, but it was still definitely _her._ Her ki was a bit dimmer now, and it didn't take much for Vegeta to be able to tell that this meant her anger had somewhat dissipated since their row in the kitchen.

Feeling experimental, the saiyan closed his eyes. He was still zeroing in on her aura, but as he kept himself locked on her ki, he began to also replay the layout of the house, as well. As he concentrated, he started to develop the sense that she was still in the bathroom. In fact, he was pretty _certain_ that she was sitting on the far end of the room, probably with her back to the wall...

He opened his eyes.

Vegeta was amazed. Not only could he recognize someone by feeling for their aura, but he could get a grasp on their geographic location, as well. It was still foggy, and took all of his mental focus, but he was doing it.

Vegeta was actually _sensing_ ki!

.

Night time had fallen by the time the Bluehead sulked back into the kitchen area. Vegeta was still locked inside his room as she passed it in the hall. She couldn't help but wonder, as she took a seat at the table, if there was something specific that he was doing in there, or if it was just that he had already gone to sleep for the night.

Feeling irritated with herself for what she was about to do, Bulma pulled a capsule from her bag and watched as it morphed into her mobile phone. She extended the antenna, clicked a button, and placed the device against her ear. Her face lit up with a smile when she didn't hear any static, and instead listened to the soft purr indicating that the phone was ringing on the other end of the line.

She heard Vegeta's bedroom door open as the she continued to wait for the call to be received, and she furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to ignore the man walking out into the living room. Not wanting him to hear her side of the conversation, Bulma was about to head for the bathroom, but the call was suddenly answered. She fell back into her seat instead.

"Hello? Dad?"

"Bulma!" Dr. Briefs exclaimed on the other end of the line. "Oh, how's the search going? Hang on, dear, I'll grab your mother-"

"No! Please don't - Dad." Bulma rolled her eyes, unable to keep the grin from her face. Her parents both had a way of always sounding so cheerful when they spoke, and even through a phone it was contagious.

"Oh? You aren't interested in chit-chat? Calling for something else, I see?"

"Yes - hey, I'm wanting to resume work on project FEC00548. Are you at the house?"

"Oh! 548! Yes, dear! The drafts are in the lab. I'll run downstairs and transfer them over. Give me a few minutes."

"Great! I'll get the receiver ready." Bulma was beaming now, reaching into her bag and fishing for another capsule as she spoke.

"Be sure to keep me updated on the progress." Dr. Briefs replied. This call had quickly gone from being a personal call, to a professional one. He knew what his daughter was like when she was working, and he had quickly forgotten all about exchanging doting pleasantries. "I'll tell your mother you called. She'll be glad to know you're doing okay."

"Thanks," The Bluehead said. A moment later she had hung up and capsulated her phone. Bulma was still acutely aware that her rude captor was still in the same room as her, but she was now too focused on the task at hand to care. She finally pulled the capsule she'd been looking for from her bag and tossed it onto the table, grinning as it erupted into a cloud of yellow smoke.

The curious saiyan, who was sitting on the couch with crossed arms, raised an eyebrow. He watched as the smoke dissipated, and in its wake sat a metal box that closely resembled a microwave oven. Rather than a door, the box had a hollow opening that emitted a soft green glow. Wondering what she was up to, Vegeta closed his eyes and searched for the ki signature that he had become acquainted with. He found it rather easily, perhaps because the two were in the same room and she was only a couple of meters away, but her aura now felt completely different.

 _'Hm.'_ He thought, biting his lip as he tried to put his finger on this change. The only word he could put on describing her aura when she'd been angrily sulking in the bathroom was 'forboding'. Her ki had seemed to be _dripping_ with a warning that it would be unwise to cross her path - not that this would have done anything to steer Vegeta away. But he had found it amusing just how confidently wicked her mood had been. Now, to the contrary, she seemed to be radiating something else instead. It was enough of a sensation to make his stomach turn, his head starting to spin as it threatened to intoxicate his own mind. Pure warmth - utter calm. It washed over his body as quickly as he could feel it coming from her.

_What was this?!_

He fought the urge to gasp, opening his eyes and focusing on the first thing that his he could see. It was clear that the Bluehead was now happy, but this was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It had threatened to distract his own mind with pleasantness, and the saiyan had been dangerously close to giving in. He didn't like how deeply and easily her warmth had been to sink into his core.

_Was this normal?_

When sensing ki, was it to be expected that he might be affected by it like this? It was one thing to recognize a ki signature, but it was another thing altogether to _feel_ it so deeply!

Vegeta was suddenly conflicted. He felt as if he had somehow been violated with such pleasantry, and yet he was awe struck that she had been capable of such a thing. The saiyan looked to the Bluehead, who was now humming something melodic as she punched a few buttons on her contraption, and that display alone was enough to confirm that it was true.

_Bulma was happy._

She appeared to be in her own world at that moment - such a stark contrast to how infuriated the woman had been just a few hours earlier. Hell - even when she'd been on the phone she had still seemed to be on edge, but one wouldn't suspect such a thing when watching her now.

It was clear that she was currently doing something that she loved, and it had worked wonders in cheering her mood…

Bulma was adjusting an antenna that was attached to her machine, examining the incoming frequency on its screen before punching a few more buttons. Finally, the connection with her father's lab had been established.

As Vegeta watched, he began to take note of a soft buzzing sound that was coming from the machine. It began to grow louder, the buttons starting to flash a bright yellow as the device worked through its function. The saiyan found himself leaning from his seat to get a better view, when suddenly a bright pink light popped from the same opening that reminded him of a microwave door. A moment later the buzzing had abruptly stopped, and there was suddenly there was a pile of papers laying under the pale green light.

Still humming to herself, Bulma clicked another button to power her receiver off before reaching into the opening and pulling out the sheets. Without speaking a word she began to skim through the papers. Taking a seat at the table and muttering something to herself, her eyes flashed back and forth as she reviewed her plans.

"Just so you know," She announced without looking up. "I'm working on this because I _want_ to. Not for you."

"Okay." Vegeta growled.

.

.

The next morning Vegeta awoke while the moon was still in the sky, just as he did every day. The first thing he thought to do was practice his developing ability. He closed his eyes again, reaching out mentally to see if he could still easily sense the Woman's ki.

Just as it was when she'd been staring at her transmission machine, her aura nearly knocked him back with how warm and _comforting_ it felt...

Glad that he still possessed the capability to sense her aura, but taken aback by how strongly it was impacting his body, the saiyan was somewhat dizzy as he stumbled from the bed and found a shirt to pull over his torso. He found it ironic that it took such a deep level of focus to achieve a sense of her ki, and yet it was now taking all of the concentration he could muster just to let go of it and move on. Something about that warmth was intoxicating, and it took all he had in him to block it away.

Grumbling under his breath, Vegeta quickly pulled his clothes on and stepped out into the living room. Just as he did each morning, he immediately went for the Woman to wake her up so they could start their day. Bulma was laying on the couch, her hair splayed across the cushion that she was using as a pillow.

Vegeta looked down at her, noting how carefree her face was as she softly smiled through whatever dream she was having. She was nuzzling into the throw blanket she'd packed, breathing a soft rhythm as she unconsciously parted her lips.

It was like this every morning, with the saiyan standing over her and considering how delicate she was as she obliviously dozed in front of him. It was interesting to think that he had already seen so many sides to this strange Earth Woman in the few days that they had known each other. With how fragile she looked when she slept, one wouldn't imagine that this was the same girl who fearlessly jumped from an exploding plane, or stupidly dove into a saloon full of drunken groping men.

"Hey..." He was still amazed with how warm her ki felt, and now he was also surprised at how careful his own voice sounded when he spoke.

"Mmmm- _mmm_..." The Bluehead groaned, rolling over so her back was now facing him.

"Wake up." Vegeta said, more sternly than he had spoken a moment ago.

"Stop..." Bulma breathed, pulling the blanket over her face as she sighed. "I need another hour..."

What pissed the saiyan off in the moment wasn't necessarily the fact that she was asking for such a thing. She did this every morning. No, what did it was how _inclined_ he suddenly was to let her have her way. His first instinct had been to back away and let her be, and that just wouldn't do. _'She's developing power over me.'_ He thought bitterly. He'd been so close to walking away and finding something to do until she woke up on her own - and without even thinking about it. _Where had this come from?!_ When he'd taken her hostage in the first place, he'd been so brutal _just_ to make his mark as the authority figure! And yet, with each passing day, it was slipping.

_Why?!_

Why should he care at all what this woman wanted and demanded?! She was there for nothing more than to abide by his bidding, and yet he was about to let her sleep in as late as she wanted - simply because she'd asked?!

"Hey!" Vegeta barked, prodding the couch with his toe. It was enough to tip it over, and the Bluehead went rolling onto the floor with a gasp. "Hey!" She screamed. "What was that for?!"

"We have work to do this morning." Vegeta snapped.

"You had to knock me down to tell me that?!" Bulma sat up, clutching her blanket and looking around the room as she gained her bearings. "A simple ' _wake up'_ wouldn't do?!"

"I did tell you to wake up. And you didn't listen." The saiyan began to storm away. "Right now we are going to pack up and resume our trip. You will show me the controls of the plane and run through working the dragon radar, and then you are to resume your work towards the project you've started."

.

Fourteen hours had passed, and Vegeta was grinding his teeth as he stared at the dragon radar. Learning how to man the plane had been simple. The controls weren't very different from the ships that Vegeta had piloted before. And the dragon radar was even easier, with only a simple button that zeroed in on the closest dragon ball with a click.

Bulma had spent the entire trip in the cargo section of the jet, set up at a small table as she reviewed her plans and added to the formulas she had written long ago. Her concentration was at its peak as she backchecked her formula and worked through any discrepancies. Vegeta was quick to learn that, when she was working, the Bluehead became as foul-mouthed and short fused as he did when he was struggling through a particularly tough training session. The day had passed with more than a few events consisting of the woman slamming her fist on her table and shouting obscenities at him to _"stop flying the plane liked a damned bat out of hell!"_

Of course, rather than take such remarks idly, the saiyan had been quick to bark something back about how she should learn to use her pencils in any type of circumstance, regardless of how much turbulence they may be under.

"We're going to land." Vegeta called now, glaring at the dragon radar. With a deep sigh, Bulma pushed herself up from the table and folded up her paperwork. After stowing her plans, she walked to the cockpit and took a seat in the copilot's chair.

"We're landing here?" She asked as she buckled herself in and looked out the window. It was already nighttime, and she was surprised to realize that she'd spent the entire day working in the back of the jet. It was pitch black out, and as she stared down below she furrowed her eyebrows. " _This_ is where you want to land? It almost looks like we're-"

"Yes. We are above an ocean." Vegeta grumbled. "Is this craft even capable of landing on water?"

"This isn't a float plane!" Bulma spoke in a tone as if she were stating the obvious. "We're going to have to head back to the shore. I have a boat that we can use from there."

He didn't even reply - the saiyan just scowled at the controls before turning the plane around at such a tight angle that Bulma let out a scream, thinking for a second that the vehicle had started nosediving. "Hey!"

"You are strapped in." Vegeta muttered, as if this excused his reckless piloting.

.

Thirty minutes later, the two were sitting in a small boat. "Can't this thing go any faster?!" Vegeta growled. "At this rate it will take us two hours!"

"This is it." Bulma sighed. She was sitting in the back by the engine, pushing down on the accelerator and staring at the darkness surrounding them. "The engine is running at full capacity. We won't go any faster than we are now."

"And we don't have any paddles… or _anything_? If I could do it myself, we'd be there by now!"

She thought he was being sarcastic, so the Bluehead rolled her eyes and gestured to the emergency oars that the boat was equipped with in the event that the engine died. "Go ahead."

"What?! Damnit, Woman! Why didn't you tell me we had these while we were still on the shore?! I could have started a long time ago!"

"Are you _serious!?"_ She asked, raising an eyebrow as Vegeta pulled the two oars down from their rack.

Muttering something under his breath, Vegeta took a seat at the back of the boat, beside Bulma, and got the paddles into position. Without warning he began to work, and the Bluehead nearly toppled over the edge of the boat as her body jerked from the sudden lunge of speed. She fell to the floor with a yelp.

"Be careful!" Vegeta snapped, continuing his pace as he worked the oars so fast that Bulma could hardly see his arms when she looked up at him. She was still laying on her stomach, her hair was blowing out behind her as she stared up at his face. His features were wrinkled in concentration as he worked, but his breaths didn't even sound strained. It was only a few minutes later that the boat came to a sudden halt, and Bulma finally sat back up to access the situation.

They were now in the center of the ocean, and in the darkness the Bluehead could not even make out the shoreline from where they were. She clicked on a small lamp that the boat had been equipped with, lighting enough of the deck that she and Vegeta could now see each other with more clarity. Now that there was more lighting, Bulma pulled out the dragon radar from her pocket and clicked a button, frowning as she read the screen. "You got us here – wow, it's to the tee. Wherever that dragonball is in that water, we are directly above it."

"Alright." Vegeta stood. "So, the ball is just a dive away."

"It's probably not as easy as that, but yes. You're correct. I've got some scuba gear we can- _hey!"_ When Bulma looked up from her radar, she saw Vegeta pulling the dark blue shirt of his saiyan garb over his head. "What are you-"

"You will stay here and wait for me." Vegeta said, kicking off his boots.

A crescent mood was hanging above their heads to supplement the small lamp near their bodies, and as Bulma watched the saiyan undressing under the dim light she couldn't help but to bite her lip. _Kami,_ he was actually going to dive for the ball without any scuba gear! But - how could she be surprised? This man was so unpredictable that it would have been more surprising if he did something normal! Bulma's eyes glossed over the toned lines of his chest, and she felt heat rising to her cheeks as her stomach began to twist. She had imagined such a body from how he looked in his fitting clothes, but seeing his nude skin was more than she could have prepared herself for. _'Kami'_ , she thought, her eyes trailing down his muscular back as he kicked his way out of his pants. _'His body is just as good as his face...'_

When Vegeta finally finished removing his clothes, he turned to look back to her. Clad in only a tight pair of boxers, and staring right at her, Bulma suddenly felt shy. She quickly turned away, wondering if he had noticed that she'd been checking him out. _This was just so **wrong**! _ He had _kidnapped_ her!

"Let me see the radar." He was saying now. Still feeling timid, Bulma reached out and handed it to him.

Vegeta gave a quick glance at the flashing ball on its a screen before handing the device back to Bulma. "Give me 10 minutes." He said. "It's as good as mine." He began to turn towards the end of the boat, and Bulma suddenly felt wary. This was all happening so fast! "Vegeta..." She breathed, her heart still pounding from seeing his bare skin in such close proximity.

"What?" He growled, not looking back at her.

She didn't even know what she wanted to say. She just wanted to keep him there - to prolong his presence. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave her... _alone_... in a boat that was stranded in the middle of sea, during the dead of the night...

… Somehow, the thought of that made her feel even more defenseless than the idea of joining him under the water. Feeling silly, she couldn't bring herself to confess her sudden anxiety, so she simply settled on saying "…Be careful..."

"What?" He had been about to jump, but the tone in her voice was enough to make him stop what he was doing and look up. He'd already been in a diving position, and he straightened as he stared into his eyes. Her lips were slightly parted, a strange expression on her features as she watched him. He hadn't seen such a look on her face since they had begun their time together, and he was taken aback back how vulnerable it was.

She bit her lip, looking as if she were about to both cry and yell, and he raised an eyebrow. As he stared at her, he began to utilize the skill he'd been experimenting with since the day before. He mentally reached out, feeling for her aura, wanting to get a sense of what was going through her mind. And when he felt her, warm and strong in front of him, he also encountered something else as well. Rather than the calm and comforting sensation she'd had when she'd been sleeping that morning, there was now a shadow of dread. Her aura fluttered as he took it in, his jaw tightening. His own heart was starting to beat harder as her ki contaminated his blood with her trepidation. He still wasn't used to blocking her out once he'd found a connection, so he had to close his eyes as he warded off her aura and willed it away.

"Woman." He said when he opened his eyes again, and she was still looking at him with that same fearful expression on her face. "Are you afraid?"

"I..." Her large eyes widened. Had she made it that obvious? She'd been trying not to let on how frightened she was. The deep sea was something she'd encountered before, and never had things gone smoothly. She'd seen what this man was capable of - but still. There was no telling what might happen! 10 minutes was a long time to be underwater without any protective gear! What if something happened to him down there? ...What if something happened to _her_ while he was away?!

"Don't be frightened." He said, and she was surprised at how soft he was suddenly speaking to her. "I'll get the ball, and then we'll set up camp for the night. Just wait for me here."

She pursed her lips and nodded, trying to turn away. _Kami_ , why was the tone in his voice only adding to her emotions!? It was as if any will to maintain a tough front faded at hearing the oddly soothing way he spoke.

"I mean it." He continued. "What happened to the woman that jumped out a plane? She had no fear, did she?"

"I - I.. _I was terrified!"_ She sputtered, looking down at her feet. "I wasn't fearless – I was so _afraid…_ "

She felt fingers touching her face, running down her jawline before clasping her chin. He pulled her head up so she was looking at him again, and he was staring into her eyes. "Terrified... Yet you still did it, correct? That is bravery, is it not? Stay _brave..."_

Bulma took in a silent breath, awestruck at the look in his eyes. _Was he really trying to comfort her?_ Where was this coming from?!

As they stared into each other's eyes, Vegeta abruptly let go of her chin. He slowly began to back away towards the edge of the boat, his pupils never leaving her own as he steadily made distance between the two. Suddenly, without saying another word, he turned and dove into the sea.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was going to be one long chapter (8k words and counting!) but I decided to split this up. That means that the next update is already well under way, so hopefully I'll be able to finish it up and post Chapter 8 before too long! 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this one! I hope you enjoyed it, too!


	8. Team Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised that this update wouldn't take long. I have to say, I'm pretty confident that this is the longest chapter I've ever posted, ever. I feel like I've crossed some type of milestone!
> 
> I've started utilizing my phone to get more writing done in my off-time during the day. This might have caused my writing style to change a bit, I wonder how noticeable it is. It's really been helping me with time management so far! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this one!

****

 

* * *

"Ugh, I knew he was just being cocky when he promised to be done in 10 minutes!" Bulma sighed, checking her watch for the twentieth time since she'd been left alone. It had been about twenty-five minutes by now. As she stared at the surface of the water, blackened by the night's lack of light, there seemed to be no trace of his return yet. Other than the typical waves that made her boat sway as she waited, there wasn't any activity. Not even an unusual ripple to indicate his impending return...

"There's no way he could last so long down there..." The Bluehead squeezed the edge of the boat as she continued to stare at the darkness in front of her. Even as she spoke it, Bulma knew it was a lie. The truth was that she was actually quite certain that he _could_ last under the water for this long, and yet she really didn't have much to base that suspicion on. She'd never seen the man hold his breath, of course, but somehow inside she just _knew_ he could probably last indefinitely if he wanted to...

Who _was_ he?

She was pretty sure that he wasn't even from this world. If his superhuman strength and speed hadn't been enough for her to make the deduction, then the way he'd spoke to her at times did. Why - he'd even called her an Earthling when they'd been hunting for food a couple of days prior! Whatever he was, wherever he had come from, Bulma knew he'd faced a lot more in his time than she probably would for her entire life.

Not only that, but this man had never actually tried to _harm_ her.

Sure, he had made ominous threats when he'd first taken her, but he had never acted on any of them. In fact, he'd even protected her at times when he could have just as easily left her for death. Such as when she was getting manhandled in that disgusting saloon, or when she'd been grabbed by the giant lizard… Vegeta didn't seem to be stupid by any means, and he had access to all of the equipment that Bulma had brought with her. He could quickly figure out how everything worked, so he didn't _need_ her anymore. He could have easily allowed her to fall to destruction, and then continue his search for the dragonballs on his own, but he _hadn't._

Perhaps that was a reason why she'd been so upset at the thought of him leaving her on her own now. She hadn't even realized how much safer she felt in his presence up until that point… And it was so _confusing!_

Bulma had been absolutely terrified of him when they'd first met, and she had been convinced that her life was disposable in his eyes. So, why did she now feel the complete opposite around him? Was it because he'd never hurt her up until that point? Was it that she now knew that he hadn't actually killed Yamcha and Krillin, after all? One of the biggest things that had caused her to be so afraid of him had turned out to be a bluff...

_Who **was** he?_

One of the things that Bulma found most interesting about Vegeta was how much he reminded her of Goku. And, the more time she spent around her captor, the more strongly she felt that the two could have been related in some way. Vegeta was certainly a lot more quick-witted and serious than Goku had ever been, but the two shared such striking traits. They both had such similar features and capabilities, and while their personalities seemed to be stark contrasts of one another, she was incredibly sure that the two would have had a lot to bond over if they'd ever met…

 _'If only Goku had been around to meet this guy.'_ Bulma thought, blinking back her confused tears. She hadn't really had much time to mourn the loss of her friend, since Vegeta had shown up so soon after he died. It seemed that every time she even thought of his name she was brought to the threat of tears, and she furiously wiped at her eyes. "I wonder if Goku would feel the same way about Vegeta as I do. The guy acts so tough, but there's a lot more to him than I know... I just can't help but trust that he doesn't have it in him to hurt me... Ugh! What's _wrong_ with me for feeling that way?!"

She let go of the edge of the boat, sniffling as she lay down and hugged her knees. "Goku..." She breathed, sniffling as she shook her head. "Oh, Goku..."

.

A ball of power was humming in his palm, which Vegeta was using to light his path as he kicked himself deeper into the sea. The saiyan had to admit, this planet had some specimens on it that were _rather_ enjoyable to look at - the Bluehaired woman being one of them. But, during his time in the water, he had certainly seen his share of some hideous creatures that he didn't care to ever look at again.

 _'Where the hell is it?'_ He thought, glaring at a stone ledge he was swimming past. The structure had grooves carved in it, with a pair of yellow eyes staring back at him from one of its wedges as he went.

He swam deeper still, adding some power to his ball of light to accommodate for the increase of pressure that came with being so far into the sea. He'd been so focused on his task that he hadn't thought to keep track of time, but he knew it had been far longer than the 10 minutes he'd promised. He thought back on how concerned Bulma had looked just before he'd jumped from the boat, thinking _'that woman is probably beside herself with worry by now. I'll bet she thinks I'm dead.'_

It wasn't long before he realized that he was actually approaching ground - he'd reached the floor of this body of water! Vegeta was surprised at how long it had taken him to do it, but he was relieved that he'd finally made it to the bottom of this ocean. It was a bit of a struggle to move, as he began to march across the wet soil. He actually had to grind his teeth with concentration as he went, his eyes scanning his surroundings for any sign of that tangerine ball.

 _'We were directly above it,'_ He thought. _'It shouldn't be a far from here!'_

As he advanced through the ocean floor, his heavy feet leaving holes where he stepped, the light radiating from his palm started to fall on something ahead. It was an opening on the side of a cliff, where the water had dramatically become more deep. _'Damnit.'_ He thought, eyes widening as he slowly advanced on the underwater cave. _'I'll bet there's something in there that's hoarding the ball!'_

Knowing perfectly well that he could be walking into a lion's den, the saiyan stepped into the cave and glared at his surroundings. It was a narrow tunnel, and as he looked he realized that there were faceless creatures lining the walls around him. It seemed that they were all asleep, but as the light hit them they began to wriggle to life. They all looked like the pale noodles that Bulma had prepared for dinner a couple of nights earlier, and Vegeta felt ill as the creatures squirmed around him. He was trying to look through the overgrown worms, to see if a hint of orange would be revealed from underneath them as they coiled, but there was nothing there. Deciding that the ball must be deeper inside the cave, Vegeta continued his walk through the tunnel.

He turned away from the walls so he could look ahead, and his face quickly broke into a grin. There, about a meter away in the darkness, lay a perfectly round orange sphere. The light that was hueing from the saiyan's hand seemed to make the ball glisten as he approached it, and Vegeta grabbed it as quickly as he could. When he looked down at where the dragonball had been laying, he didn't feel too surprised to see that it had been nestled between two large eggs, on what appeared to be some type of nest.

 _'Stupid creature didn't even know what its own eggs looked like.'_ The saiyan thought as he moved back through the tunnel, past the coiling worms, and towards the clearance to the open ocean floor.

When he made it out of the cave he jumped and began his return back towards the surface of the ocean. He had a long way to go until he got back to the boat, but Vegeta figured his return would be quicker than his departure since he was no longer distracted in searching for the ball.

It might have been about fifty meters that he'd risen, when suddenly he felt a wave hit him from behind. An air bubble popped from his mouth as he growled from the shock of it, the ball dropping from his hand. It was sinking fast, but Vegeta dove after it and managed to retrieve it before it got too far.

He heard a loud noise to his side, though it was muffled by the water. _'The mother makes her entrance,'_ Vegeta thought, narrowing his eyes as he glared at something that was at least six times his size.

It was watching him.

Its large eyes were the size of the saiyan's body, and they were so dark that they almost appeared to be two hollow pits. Its body, long and twisting, was so large that it faded into darkness as Vegeta's ball of light failed to illuminate all of it. This creature looked just like the disgusting things that were coiling the wall of the cave, but it was monumentally larger and was sporting tentacles from its frame. The end of the tentacles were attached to large, crab-like claws, which snapped at Vegeta as he dodged the attack from the side.

It had been a close call - _too close_. Not only did the added pressure of the deep water inhibit Vegeta's movements, but it was hard to fight back when he was trying to reserve his oxygen _and_ protect his dragonball. He looked up at the pitch blackness above his head, and instantly started to shoot towards it. Putting the same amount of energy as if he were flying, the saiyan shot up like a rocket as he propelled into more shallow waters. The creature, angry and wanting to protect its nest, took off after him.

Vegeta quickly diffused the ball of light in his hand, and he was instantly surrounded by darkness. Perhaps if he couldn't see, then the creature might not be able to, either. Or, at least, it wouldn't be able to make him out as easily, and he'd be able to get away…

.

"Two hours!" Bulma groaned after checking her watch. "How long should I wait before I just turn back without him?"

She was still laying in the boat, staring up at the starlit sky, trying to think of something to do with her time. Not only was she becoming incredibly bored, but she was starting to get hungry - and sleepy, too. How much longer would she be waiting for him? What if something really _did_ happen while he was down there, and he _never_ came back?!

The Bluehead had put a swimsuit on under her clothes when she had still been on the plane - just in case she would need to swim. Feeling sweaty in the claustrophobic boat, and unnerved by how much time had passed since Vegeta had dived into the sea, Bulma had long ago removed her shirt and pants and was laying in her swimwear.

She sat up, clad in only her polka dot bikini, hugging her knees as she went. She thought she could hear something bubbling in the water a few meters away.

_Was he finally coming up?_

Bulma's face lit up. Soon they'd be able to head back to land! She turned towards the back of the boat. The water began to bubble louder, and she knew it wouldn't be long before his head poked out from the sea. The Bluehead clicked on the engine and began to steer the boat towards the sound of the bubbles, thinking she'd make it easier for him so that he wouldn't have to swim out towards her when he finally rose from the water.

… What she hadn't been anticipating was that he'd have _company._..

Out of the ocean came Vegeta, shooting into the sky like a rocket. Before the sound of the splashing had been able to dissipate, he had already turned towards Bulma and started to yell. "Get out of here!" He shouted. "Get as far away as you can!"

"Huh?" Bulma paused the engine of the boat, eyes widening as it set in that something was wrong.

"GO!" He screamed, and a moment later something else came propelling from the water. Letting out an ear-rattling yell, the giant sea-monster launched for the saiyan, who flew to the side and dodged the assault.

 _"Veggie!"_ Bulma cried.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" He bellowed, gripping his dragonball with one hand and landing a punch to the large worm's side with his other. The sea monster wailed, its tentacles flailing in the air as its temper rose.

It was frustrating to have to defend himself with one hand. Vegeta growled, wishing he had something to store his dragonball in. He had considered tossing it to Bulma and telling her to take it with her, but he knew that this water demon would just turn on her instead, and he needed to steer it away.

He turned to see if she had listened to him and was fleeing, but instead he saw that she was digging through the cargo in the boat.

"WOMAN! LISTEN TO ME!" Vegeta barked. It was then that the sea monster took advantage of his back being turned. He growled as he felt a tentacle suddenly wrapping around him, cursing for allowing himself to get so distracted.

The creature was pulling him towards an opening on the bottom of its head – which was presumably its mouth… The saiyan could hear Bulma screaming " _Veggie!"_ from the boat again, and this made him even more uncomfortable than the prospect of being eating by a giant worm did… "You disgusting harpy!" Vegeta barked, fighting to free his arms from its grasp. He began to charge a ball of ki in his hand. If he couldn't beat this creature with his fists, he'd just have to blast it to shreds - piece by piece.

The creature let out another howl and tightened its grasp. Vegeta bit his lip as it squeezed the wind out of him, his eyebrows furrowing as he concentrated on the power that was charging in his palm. "You..." He growled. "… Ugly..."

Suddenly the tentacle let go, and Vegeta went dropping down into the ocean with a loud splash. He poked his head above the waves and looked up to see that the creatures had a river of blood dripping from the tentacle it had been grasping him with.

Something was stuck in its skin!

He looked to the boat to see Bulma on the deck, holding a crossbow over her shoulder as she glared out at the writhing worm. While the creature screamed its protests in a wave of angry splashes, she bent down and picked up another bolt. Carefully and smoothly, she was reloading her weapon.

"Woman..." Vegeta gasped, staring at her petite figure as she stood under the moon. She was aiming her crossbow at the monster again, staring at it with a look on her face that silently said _'fuck with me – I **dare** you.'_. It was the same fearless stance he'd seen in her a few times before, as she stood her ground against this impending threat. His breath caught in his throat when she narrowed her eyes in concentration before shooting another bolt into the creature, this time hitting it near what he presumed was its head.

Its crab-like pincers snapped angrily as it let out another pained yelp, and then it began to charge for her.

It was moving with more difficulty than in had been before it was shot, but the disgusting worm was still quick. Vegeta jumped from the water, the energy he'd been charging in his palm ready for release. Holding his arm out, a purple beam of light shot from his hand and slapped the worm in the body. It let out a howl so loud that it made Bulma's eardrums throb, and she let out a cry of her own as she dropped her weapon.

As the creature limply fell back into the water, a tentacle loosely flailed out and hit the Bluehead in the side. She let out a wail, her feet giving out and sending her over the edge of the boat with a splash.

Seeing her falling like that triggered such an inexplicable urgency in the Saiyan that he couldn't remember ever feeling for anyone else's survival other than his own. Without even thinking about what he was doing, Vegeta let out an angry yell before diving into the sea. Once underwater he lit his palm before frantically scanning his surroundings, fearing that the creature was dragging her down to its cave as it retreated. But when his eyes found the sea-monster he saw it drifting down into darkness, limp and _alone,_ as it calmly sank away.

… It _wasn't_ pulling her with it…

Even if the saiyan hadn't been under water, he still would have been holding his breath. Panicked, he quickly looked to his side and spotted Bulma a few meters away. Her body was swaying in the unsteady current that had been created by the battle. She wasn't voluntarily moving, and appeared to be rather lifeless as her figure was thrown around with the waves. All of the air had been knocked out of her lungs when she'd been hit, so there was nothing to keep her floating as she slowly started to sink.

Vegeta took off towards her, grabbing her body and carrying it up to the water's surface. She was limp in his arms, but she inhaled sharply and began to cough when he laid her on the deck of the boat and gave the middle of her chest a tight nudge.

Panting from the ordeal, Vegeta looked down at the sopping woman as she gasped, and he couldn't keep the grin from his lips. She was bleeding from where she'd been whipped from the sea creature, but her chest was rising and falling at a healthy rate. She was still passed out, but she was alive.

_She would be okay…_

Vegeta looked down at his hand, opening it to reveal that the dragonball was still there. Feeling slightly manic from what had just happened, he let out a husky laugh before turning back to the Bluehead who was laying beside him. "I told you to get away." He panted, eying her fresh wound as blood loosely dripped from the skin. His eyes traveled up and down her body, light reflecting off her curves with how wet she was. He had noticed that she was hardly clothed when she'd been shooting the worm with her crossbow, but now he was able to get a better look. When had she changed outfits?

This polka dotted two piece she was now wearing was... well, _nice..._

"Oh..." Bulma groaned as she started to come to, putting a quivering hand to the cut in her rib. The tentacle, large and heavy, had acted like a sharp whip against her frame. She grimaced as the pain suddenly shot to her head, her bones aching from the impact.

"Woman." Vegeta smirked, turning and heading for the paddles. It was time for them to head back to the shore.

"Gah," The Bluehead groaned, still only half awake and not caring to filter herself from verbalizing her thoughts. "That stings to bad... _It hurts_ …"

"It will heal." The saiyan replied, rowing the oars into the water. The boat gave a lurch and began to swiftly move through the waves. He stared at her as he worked. She was laying exactly where he'd left her, and she turned her head as she began to lose consciousness again.

"Woman..." He muttered, still grinning as the image of her holding that weapon replayed in his mind. "... I told you that you were brave..."

.

.

"Ahh!" Bulma croaked, her skin sizzling as she pressed an alcohol-soaked towel into her wound. It was a long slash that started just below her rib, and wrapped around to her mid-back. She was sitting on the bathroom counter in the capsule house, Vegeta standing in front of her and watching as she worked.

The saiyan, who had come out of the battle relatively unscathed, had just finished examining Bulma to make sure she didn't have any cracked bones from the impact. Her musculoskeletal system seemed to be okay, though her lower ribs were bruised. He had soaked the towel in alcohol before she'd quickly snatched it away from him and pressed it into her injury before he'd had the chance to.

"Such a fragile specimen." He muttered, taking note of the excruciated look on her face. The tentacles had worked as hard as they could to strangle him, and it hadn't even left him with a mark – but, this woman! She'd been hit by a lifeless extremity on its way down, and that had been enough to render her unconscious and leave a deep flesh wound in her torso…

Bulma sighed, pulling the towel from her skin to reveal that it had turned red from her blood.

"You need that gel I gave you." The saiyan commented. "It will stop the bleeding. Where are you storing it?"

"Right there - behind that door under the sink."

After grabbing the ointment, which was exactly where Bulma had said it would be, Vegeta handed the tube to her. She squeezed a generous glob out, rubbed her hands together with it, and began to massage her palms into her gash.

"I don't care how useless you think this stuff is." The Bluehead said breathlessly, cringing as she palmed the ointment into her wound. "I think it works really well…"

"On someone like you, perhaps…" The saiyan replied. "Turn around when you are finished. Your back has several raw spots on it."

It was true. Bulma had been burned so bad when she had jumped from the exploding plane that she had blisters on her back. The ointment had helped the majority of her injuries to quickly heal overnight, but there were some parts of her back that she hadn't been able to reach, and she was far too proud to want to ask _Vegeta_ for help… Especially when he'd been the person she'd been trying to escape from when she'd gotten hurt in the first place…

"Someone like me…" She echoed, rubbing the last of the ointment into her skin and then looking up at the saiyan. "Where are you from?"

He didn't seem pleased about being asked this, for his face suddenly hardened. "I told you to turn around when you finished with your wound."

She glared back at him. "Well, why should I?"

"Hmm." He growled. "Are you _pretending_ to be daft? Do you want help with your back injury, or not?"

"Not if you won't tell me where you're from." Bulma scowled. "Why should I trust you enough to turn my back to you if you can't even share that information with me?"

"My past does not concern you." He glared.

"I know you're just like Goku. I always knew he was different, that there was _no_ way he could be from this world-"

"And _how_ do you assume I am not from Earth?" Vegeta shot.

"Because _you_ told me." She hissed. "You've implied it before. You say that there is only evil in the _universe_ , which is not a generalization that many people from my planet would make. And you've even called me an _Earthling_."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, but he didn't interject.

"I'm not stupid, so stop assuming that I can't put together the pieces you've given me." She continued. "You're not from anywhere near Earth, are you?"

"Perhaps." He smirked, looking more mischievous than he did amused. "And why should you care, even if I _wasn't_ from around here?"

"Because I want you to stop with these games and be honest with me about what you're planning to do with those dragonballs. And now that I've met you, I know that, wherever you came from, Goku did too. I want to know where that was."

" _Goku._ " Vegeta crossed his arms. Now the smirk on his face really _was_ starting to looked amused. "You speak of him so much."

"He was my best friend." She scowled.

"Pity, then, that you don't even know the real name that your _best friend_ was born under…"

"What are you saying?" She could feel her heart rate starting to rise. The two of them had been relatively calm just a few minutes ago, and now she was struggling to keep her anger at bay.

"If he was your _best friend_ , then you should already have the answers to your questions... There was obviously more to him that he ever let on, wasn't there? It sounds like he was keeping his own secrets…"

Her eyes widened at this. He made a good point… He was _right,_ and he knew it… And he had such a damned smug look on his face about it, too!

"Goku…" She breathed. Suddenly she was taken back – back to the first time they had met.

Back to seeing him transform into a terrifying ape at the sight of a full moon… Back to all of the times that he had saved her, comforted her, and made her laugh with his naivety.

… Suddenly she remembered the last encounter she'd had with him. Pale and sweaty, he had groaned in pain and clutched his chest. He had been laying in a pool of his own sweat on his bed, with Chi-Chi, Yamcha, Krillin, and her by his side. How he had opened his eyes briefly to extend a hand towards Chi-Chi, to tell her he was sorry that he'd never get to eat one of her steamed pies again...

… How he had turned to his friends after that, and how he'd looked at them. His white lips parting as he softly whispered "thanks for everything…"

… And then, how slowly his eyelids had shut... And then, the fight drained from his face…

Bulma shook her head, her flashback ending. She was now back in the bathroom, with that cocky man standing over her as she sat on the countertop. Vegeta was still watching her, his arms crossed over his chest. And he was _still_ sporting that smug expression, staring at her and waiting for her response.

"Goku…" She breathed again, her vision growing blurry.

"Hm?" The saiyan in front of her replied, lifting a snide eyebrow.

After the memory she'd just had, Bulma could feel the impending threat of tears welling in her gut, and she shook her head to will them away.

"Right." Vegeta said then, nodding as if to confirm his victory in this dispute. "That's what I thought…"

"AHH!" The Bluehead suddenly snapped, launching from the counter. The saiyan felt a light smack against his cheek, which made a much louder noise than he would have expected for something so weak, and then Bulma landed a fist on his chest.

"Hey!" His mouth dropped open.

She was beating on his chest with both of her hands now, smacking him with everything she had. It sounded as if she were trying to play a drum, and yet it didn't even phase the saiyan. Instead, he was semi-amused by how little strength she really had. "Hey!" He snapped again, wrapping his fingers around her wrists to stop her pathetic attempt at assault. She was gasping, and she looked up into his eyes, her face growing puffy as she failed with her attempt to hold back tears. "You don't know anything! You hear me?!" She yelled. "You never even got to _meet_ Goku! It's obvious you didn't know him if you're going to talk about him like that!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"How _dare_ you say something like that about him! He didn't keep _any_ secrets from _anyone!"_

He grasped her wrist more tightly, and she winced, but this didn't stop her rant. "He was just as unsure about his roots as we all were! He didn't even know how he was born – he was _found_ and raised as someone's child, and that's all he knew!"

"Are you speaking the truth?" Vegeta growled. What had _happened_ to that low-class warrior during his mission? None of what she described him to be sounded correct at all! Something must have gone haywire very early on – but _what?_

"I just want to know…" Bulma spat, trying to pull her arms out of Vegeta's grasp, but failing. "I just wanted to know who _you_ are… Who _Goku_ was… And you didn't have to be such a _jerk_ about it!"

"I have told you before that you need not concern yourself with my past." Vegeta said sternly, giving her arms a slight tug to assure her that he was the one in control of this situation. "Now is not the time for that."

"I can't stand that!" She hissed. "I _want_ to know!"

"I will not tell you right now." He announced, and with that he finally dropped Bulma's wrists. "It is too late to get into everything. But we _will_ compromise on this, _Woman,_ I'll give you that. I will enlighten you with a brief history of my _culture,_ but I will not share everything I have done and seen. You will know enough to satisfy your curiosity about the one you call _Goku_ , and that is all you shall receive."

She didn't reply to this. Bulma just watched him, her shoulders heaving as she processed what he'd just said. She really hadn't been expecting this… She'd thought he wouldn’t agree to anything at all…

"The condition is that you will cease with all of your prying, and you will accept the information I choose to give without demanding any more. In return you will tell me more about _Goku_. I want to know why he didn't tell you any of this on his own."

"There was a lot to him that even _he_ didn't know." She replied sharply. "I've already said _that._ "

"But you will tell me what he _did_ know." Vegeta growled back, leaning closer into her face as he stared fiercely into her own blue orbs. Bulma had finally caught her breath, and her posture relaxed as her temper began to subside. She took a step away from him, her jaw locked as she considered everything he'd just said. "You promise?"

"You have my word. We shall discuss this tomorrow. Now is too late."

"Okay…" She breathed. Bulma was now feeling somewhat awkward as she sobered from her hostile emotions. She looked to the counter, the purple tube of ointment still laying where she'd left it.

"So." Vegeta muttered, stepping around her as he made his way for the door. "I am going to my quarters for the night. We will wake up at the same time we always do to continue our journey."

"Wait."

The saiyan turned, wondering what this woman had to be upset about _now._ He raised an eyebrow, glaring at her from over his shoulder. Bulma was still looking as if she didn't know what to say after her explosion, and she shyly clasped her hands together as she looked at him. "My back still hurts." She whispered.

He narrowed his eyes.

"I… I could use some help with the ointment…" She broke eye contact to look down at her feet, biting her lip. She _hated_ asking him for help... "There's… a lot of my back that I can't reach on my own…"

For a moment Vegeta considered saying something to tease her – to reference how opposed to the idea she'd been just a few minutes earlier. But he was getting tired, and he didn't want to give her an excuse to break into another yelling fit at him. The saiyan made his way for her, grabbing her shoulders and forcefully spinning her around so that she was facing the mirror and her back was to him. While some parts of her back had perfectly healed by now, there were several large patches that were worse for wear – some looking nearly raw, others sporting bright red scabs that seemed as if they would bleed if she hit them the wrong way. Not to mention, there was the new gash that had been created by the sea creature that night…

Bulma held her breath as Vegeta grabbed the tube and squeezed some of its contents out…

… And then she felt rough hands slapping into her skin. "Ah!" She jumped before whipping around so she could see the look on his face. "What are you _doing?!"_

"What are you on about _now_?" He growled irritably.

"You were _beating_ on me!" She hissed.

"No I wasn't!"

She stared at his expression for any sign of malice, but all she saw was confused frustration instead. Bulma blinked for a moment, realizing that he really hadn't intentionally hurt her, and she carefully turned back around. "Please…" She muttered. "Try to be more gentle... I'm delicate, you know."

"Did that _really_ hurt you?" He growled. This Earth Woman was as fragile as a piece of glass! He looked down at his hands, which were glistening with the healing lotion he'd put on them, and then he looked back at her skin…

… When he touched her again, he was more careful to hold back on the pressure he used, palming the ointment into a raw patch so softly that he was barely rubbing her at all.

He felt her muscles tense up from his touch, but she didn't jump or scream like she had a moment ago. It seemed that this time her pain was coming from the tender area he was rubbing, instead. With a sharp intake of breath, Bulma straightened her posture and closed her eyes. His fingers were moving so fast, and with their touch brought a throbbing in her dermis tissue, but she did everything she could to resist crying out…

.

.

_"Can you still walk?"_

She heard him asking this, but he sounded far away. It was strange… The Bluehead opened her eyes to realize that Vegeta had spun her around again and was now staring at her grimacing face. She blinked at him, wondering how long she'd been positioned like that, when he spoke again. "Did you faint?"

"I – " She began, blinking again.

"That's the second time you've lost consciousness on me tonight." He commented. The saiyan took a step back and bobbed his head to the side, eying her up and down. "You might as well go to bed, then. You back should be mostly healed by the time you wake up."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving a stunned Bulma standing alone in the bathroom. Feeling lightheaded, she rubbed consciousness into her eyes before turning to look at herself in the mirror. When she saw her reflection, the Bluehead couldn't help but to raise her eyebrows as a shy grin creept up on her face. _She was still wearing that polka dotted bikini..._

The ordeal with the sea monster, the pain she was in from her wounds, and the argument she'd gotten into with Vegeta had all made her forget that she was hardly wearing anything at all. And now, after being left to her own devices for the night, Bulma was suddenly replaying the events in her head…

_She was still wearing that bikini, and he'd been looking her **up and down** …_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, Chapter 9 is already in the works. It currently has about 1800 words, and there's still a quite a lot of ground to cover!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. A Fondness

The next morning Vegeta woke Bulma up at the same time as usual - just as he'd promised. And, without any indication that he was even considering the agreement they had made the night before, he ordered her to get ready so they could begin their search for the next ball.

"Oh, we aren't doing _that_ today." Bulma replied with a grumpy yawn as she pulled herself up from the floor. This was the second consecutive morning that Vegeta had woken her up by prodding her from the couch, and she had no idea what it was that put him in such a sour mood so early.

"What are you talking about?" He demanded with a scowl.

She was about to yell back, but when the Bluehead stood and got a good look at him, her demeanor softened. "Hey are you okay?" She asked. "You look like you didn't get any sleep."

His facial expression was much harder than usual this morning and his hair, which was usually styled in a slick spike, looked nearly disheveled with unruly strands poking out in different directions. It almost looked like he had been tossing and turning all night. And if this wasn't enough to make her think he hadn't gotten any rest, then his reaction to her question certainly did it. As soon as she asked, the saiyan's face soured more than it already was, and he angrily unsheathed the whites of his teeth. "I am fine!" He snapped. "Get ready, Woman!"

"We can't search for the next ball today." Bulma repeated, stretching her arms over her head as her body came to terms with being awake.

" _Oh?_ What makes you so bold?"

"We need to go back to my parents' house." Bulma replied. "The plans I had conducted for my project all looked good yesterday. I'm ready to start on the next phase of work - to bring it all to fruition."

"Does this mean you will tell me what it is you are creating?" Vegeta's glare relented - but only by a tad.

"Not if you're going to wake me up every morning by knocking me off the couch and yelling at me!" Bulma hissed back, turning her nose up at the man in front of her.

"Why should we need to go back to gather supplies?" Vegeta grumbled. "You can just use that machine from the other night. Have your father transfer them to you."

"That won't work for this!" The Bluehead was folding up the blanket she'd been sleeping under, fighting back a yawn as she tidied up the couch. "That receiver is only useful for small things, such as paper. It breaks the substance down into microscopic particles so they can travel at a quick rate before arriving to its destination. The tools I need are too dense to be able to do such a thing, and then re-materialize with accuracy. We have to pick everything up in person."

"And how long is _that_ going to take?!" The saiyan crossed his arms, looking more in that moment like a spoiled child than the brute of a man that he always boasted to be.

"It's going to take us a couple of days to get back there." Bulma sighed, rolling her eyes before the saiyan had a chance to interject. "Look, we've already found three balls. It's been less than a week, and we're almost half way done. We'll get the rest in no time, but if you even want to think about my project then we need to get the supplies for it. And if you want the project even faster, then you'll give me some time to work on it at my home lab before we start traveling again."

"My patience is wearing thin." Vegeta growled through tight lips.

"Well, maybe that's something you should work on." Bulma replied. " _I'm_ making myself some breakfast before me leave, I'm starving."

.

The day passed without the two exchanging too many words. In fact, it was Bulma that did most of the talking, while Vegeta had taken to communicating with only facial expressions and growls.

Any sign of deep thought or softness that he had been looking at her with the night before was now gone, and in his eyes was a hostility that came off as both exaggerated and childish each time his hissed under his breath. He hadn't been acting like this at all when he'd left her alone in the bathroom the night before, so where had this come from? The Bluehead might have assumed that his sour mood came from her announcement that they needed to head back to West City, except that he'd been so obviously moody even before she'd told him. Something must have happened overnight – but _what?_

He seemed to be lost in his own aggravated thought as the two ate breakfast in silence. And, after Bulma capsulated the house and the two took off in her pink jet, Vegeta was quick to move to the cabin while she directed the plane towards West City. He spent the entire flight working out in the back of the plane, in the same area that Bulma had spent so much time working on her plans the day before.

She could hear him back there – huffing, growling, and muttering under his breath as he pushed himself through a set of one-armed pushups – but he never uttered a word in her direction. Bulma wasn't sure why this bothered her so much. She'd been quick to realize that he was a man of few words just after they'd met, but he'd been speaking to her more than ever during the last couple of days they'd spent together. Now he seemed to be almost irritated by her presence, and it left her with a ridiculously sour taste in her mouth that made her feel silly in just thinking about it.

At the end of the day, after they had landed and set up camp for the night, the two sat across from each other as they quietly ate the dinner that Bulma had prepared. She had been growing increasingly frustrated with his attitude throughout the day, and now that the sun had set and they were getting ready to wind down for the night, she wasn't so sure if she could take any more.

"Well." Bulma finally said, pushing her empty plate away and glaring at the man across from her.

Staring down at his plate as if it'd just said something insulting to him, Vegeta was stubbornly taking his time chewing on a piece of meat. He'd heard what she said but didn't bother responding, furrowing his eyebrows as he considered what the rest of the night would consist of.

" _You've been ignoring me all day."_ Her voice was a few octaves higher than normal, as if the words actually stung to say out loud.

Finally - _finally_ \- he looked up at her, gulping down his food before licking teeth clean. "Craving my attention, are you?" He said, unable to resist the snide comment from escaping his lips. Despite how frustrated he was with the girl in front of him and how determined he was to make some kind of point with his muteness, teasing her had been so easy in this moment. She'd set herself up for such a comeback, and it had just been too good of an opportunity to pass up.

"I couldn't care less if you never give me attention again." Bulma retaliated, but the narrowing of her eyes seemed to indicate that she felt quite opposite of what she was currently spouting. In fact, she actually looked a bit hurt... "I just find it interesting, is all... Don't you dare think, for even a second, that I'll forget about the promise you made simply because you're acting so hostile towards me."

That was just it - Vegeta leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. He really had been acting hostile towards her, but it hadn't necessarily been intentional. He knew he was being selfish, and he knew he was trying to make some kind of point to her, and yet he couldn't help it. There was a lot more to it than simply wanting an escape from what he'd vowed to do the night before. He wasn't a coward - he had made a promise, and he would stick to it.

What made him act so bitter - so silently moody - was a warm cocktail of tension that didn't quite have one specific cause. It was an array of things that put the saiyan so on edge, and the fact that he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before only served to exacerbate his foul mood.

To think that he hadn't slept at all also added to his frustration, because it was the girl in front of him that had kept him up all night long. Thoughts of how oddly _intimate_ the night before had felt with her, and in more ways than just rubbing healing serum into her wounds. The fact that he had so instinctively wanted to care for her when she was hurt - how thoughtlessly quick he'd been to try and soothe her worried when he'd realized that she was afraid.

… The alarm that flashed through his mind when he saw her getting knocked in the sea by the ugly creature…

No, he hated to think it. But last night, as he pulled himself on the bed and closed his eyes, Vegeta made a startling realization that he had grown fond on the Bluehead sitting in front of him...

He'd developed fondness for female creatures before, though it had been quite some time since he'd allowed himself such a pleasure. The last time had been when he was still a teenager. And even then, he couldn't associate a name, let alone a face, with any of those girls. It had only been a handful of encounters at the most, and long ago his memory had grouped all of them together as a nothing more than a disgusting lump of regret.

Four had been willing - or, as willing at one could be when just trying to find a distraction as a slave on a warship. They'd each served him dinner in his quarters at one point or another, and each of them had flirted with the then-pubescent saiyan the entire time they'd unloaded their trays. Their behavior had all been the same, giggling with feigned bashfulness as they cooed words of adoration about his looks.

His raging hormones had depleted his rationale enough that he'd indulged in their cheeky suggestions - but on _his_ terms. He'd snogged them, gotten close enough to them that he understood what it felt to have a bosom pressing against his chest. But instead of continuing into something further, he'd always pulled back to demand that they continue their desperate compliments if they even wanted to _think_ about receiving more. His adolescent body chemistry may have reveled in the feel of their lips and skin, but their words of praise resonated deeper with the disgraced saiyan's blood – far more than any physical touch ever could.

It was his rightful place to receive such comments, and if he'd still been on his home planet he would have been hearing these types of praises every minute of every day. He'd been robbed of that, but these wenches were willing to give it. So, he would demand more - more words of affection, more worship on his strength and looks. He'd sit back on his bed and watch, amused by their words as each girl listed every desirable trait they could. And, when they began speaking in circles and repeating observations they'd already made, he'd crudely send them away.

Not one of those girls had meant anything to him, but the fifth girl had been so willing and enthusiastic – so blunt with her attraction - that he'd gone much farther with her than even he had intended. Waking up a few hours later and thinking about what he'd done had disgusted the prince to the point that he'd spent the next four hours scrubbing himself in the decontamination chamber, trying to purify his skin of its soiled state.

None of them were worthy. Not a single _one_ of those touchy females. Never in his life would he meet another being deserving of his flesh, of his spit, of his blood. He decided it on that very day, years ago, after skipping his first meal and scouring at his skin with a sponge so hard that it bled. If he couldn't have one of his own then he would simply never indulge again. …It was his duty, the last ounce of dignity he could maintain, considering his disgraced title. It would be his legacy...

No - while he may have been fond of what they said to him in the moment, he had never cared for any of those girls. And after the encounter with that fifth girl, Vegeta developed a reputation for violently casting the slaves away if they had enough of a nerve to even bat a seductive lash at him. He'd never cared for any woman, and he never would…

At least, he didn't _think_ he ever would. But last night, as he lay in bed and replayed the last several hours with that Bluehaired woman, he realized he'd been wrong in this premonition. He hadn't just become fond of Bulma - he'd felt as if he'd yell his voice out in trying to warn her to get away from the sea. He'd considered her well-being before his own when coming up with a battle plan against that wretched sea worm. He'd felt so strangely proud to see her shooting it with that weapon of hers, so livid when he'd thought she might drown in the clutches of that disgusting creature… So pleasantly relieved when he knew she was okay...

... He _cared_ for her...

" _Vegeta!"_

The tone in Bulma's loud voice was enough to tell him that she'd been trying to get his attention for some time. He was still leaning back in his chair, and his arms were still folded over his chest. The Bluehead had nearly crawled on the table at this point as she scowled at him. "Hey!" She glared. "Vegeta!"

"What _is_ it?!" He snapped back, pushing himself up from his relaxed position and growling at the woman in front of him.

"You said you'd tell me about your past!" She scolded. "You _promised_ me!"

"Alright, alright! Enough of this! Stop with your whining!"

"I'm not whining!" The Bluehead said. " _You've_ been ignoring me!"

"Just... stop it, already!" Vegeta bit his lip to keep from lashing out. She made a good point, but it still didn't sit well with him to be regarded in such a disrespectful manner... He took in a deep breath, clamping his eyes shut as if he were afraid that one of them might bulge out if he didn't. "Okay." He finally sighed, trying to think of a good starting point. "What exactly is it you want to know, again?"

"I want to know where you're from! What happened to Goku? How did he end up on this planet? Is there anyone coming after you, and why do you want the dragonballs?!"

"Okay." Vegeta muttered, taking a moment to consider the best way to approach the subject. He'd been trying to decide this all day - how he would convey his history to her without having to go into too much detail, and without him reliving so many disgusting events that he ended up in an even worse mood. Finally he sighed again, and he opened his eyes. "You are a smart one, after all. You were right in deducting that the one you know as Goku came from the same planet as me. But he did not go by such a name to my people. His birth name was Kakarot."

He was only twenty seconds into his explanation, and already he'd had to tear his eyes away from hers and stare at the table instead. The curiously shocked expression on her face was too distracting for him to look at while he spoke. "He and I are both native to a planet titled Vegeta, though he was years younger than I and we never formally met."

"Planet _Vegeta_?"

"Yes."

"But... isn't Vegeta your name?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You were named after the planet, then?"

"No, the planet was named after my family." Vegeta rolled his eyes, an act of exasperation of having to explain such a concept - as if she should have already known. But Bulma could see that he was starting to ease in his posture as he spoke, and she began to take note that he enjoyed speaking of his lineage far more than he wanted to let on.

He then went into explaining with more detail how society on his planet was established. Those who were born on Planet Vegeta made up a race known as the saiyan, and the saiyans were categorized into different rankings based on their strength and skill. Apparently, as he described it, one's value was based simply on how strong they were, and the higher the strength, the higher the social class. All of this was interesting enough to imagine, but what Bulma hadn't been expecting at all was when Vegeta nonchalantly mentioned that he and his family were among the highest in rank.

"So." Bulma said thoughtfully, trying to imagine a society that was orchestrated in such a way. "You and your family were the highest ranking... Which means you are-"

"It means that my father was King, and I was to one day take on such a title as well." Vegeta muttered, and with this the Bluehead could see that his voice was taking on a bitter tone once more. Bulma could easily tell that something must have gone wrong for him to be using past-tense verbs, and she knew she was running the risk of striking a sensitive spot with him, but she couldn't keep herself from prying further.

"Vegeta... what happened? Why aren't you king now?"

She had been a bit worried that this question might set him off enough that he'd announce their discussion was over before storming off to his room, but he didn't even blink at her words. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment, and when she asked her question he looked up from the table and into her eyes. "I initially was not planning to share this with you, because I didn't want it to overwhelm your simple brain. But I see now that you won't let the matter drop until you know, and perhaps you're intelligent enough to grasp the concept after all."

"Don't insult me." She chimed in, but Vegeta continued without acknowledging her comment.

"To put things bluntly, my planet was destroyed by a tyrant. Only a few saiyans were spared from perishing along with the planet, including Kakarot and myself."

He said it so matter of factly that Bulma felt compelled to try and mask her own surprise. Her eyebrows threatened to rise and her lungs instinctively expanded to let in a gasp of air, but she tightened her lips and resisted the reaction. Instead she watched him, wide eyed and blinking, waiting for him to continue.

Vegeta had been expecting a tangent of questions to be thrown his way after announcing his planet's fate, but when they didn't come he licked his bottom lip. Pleased that she was giving him leverage to detail his story at his own pace, he continued.

"The one who destroyed our planet is well-known among the universe. Much like myself, he was born into a family of elite warriors known as the Cold Empire. They outranked even the strongest of the saiyans, as much as it disgusts me to admit. While he and his direct family were strong, they were few. We were able to hold up well during battle because we outnumbered them so greatly. After years of brutality, when my father was a boy, a treaty was established between our empires. We both agreed to cease with fighting in exchange for certain deeds. To simply put it, we were of use to one another."

"How?" Bulma breathed. Her heart was racing - this all was so surreal to hear. She felt as if she were listening to the screenplay of a brilliant film rather than the tale of a mysterious man's past. Without even knowing it, she was on the edge of her seat, leaning closer to the handsome man in front of her as if she might otherwise miss a word he said.

"As I said already, there were few in their empire. Not more than ten men. The elites of their race were brutally strong, but all of the commoners were as weak as the people living on Earth. What the elites had in strength, they lacked in numbers. They required an army, and _that_ we could easily provide."

"So the saiyans began to work for the Cold Empire." Bulma sighed, her heart panging with dread. She began to understand the doomed direction that this story was heading in.

"Right. The commoners born under the Cold Empire were laughably weak, but they were skilled intellectually, and were one of the most technologically advanced empires in all of the Universe. In exchange for our labor, Planet Vegeta was provided with the same technology that was being used by them."

"But they grew tired of sharing." The Bluehead guessed softly, lowering her eyes from Vegeta's face. She held her breath, waiting for him to respond, but silence only fell between them instead. She listened to the wind blowing outside, the clatter of some night animal collecting seeds for dinner by the window. She listened to Vegeta's deep breaths as he sat across from her, but he did not respond.

Finally, after what felt like minutes without hearing his voice, Bulma looked up from her hands to see him staring at her. He was watching her, with a look on his face that was impressed – probably at how she'd guessed the ending to his tale. Yet he also looked nearly mental - as if he were on the verge of becoming overwhelmed with thoughts that were hounding his mind. When the two locked eyes his pupils seemed to come back to reality, and he nodded. "Yeah."

Bulma bit her lip. This was more than she'd ever been expecting to hear, and yet there was still so much more that she felt she needed to know. How had Vegeta escaped such a fate that the rest of his planet faced? How had Goku ended up on Earth at an age so young that he didn't even remember his previous life? Was the one who was coming after him a member of the Cold Empire? She _needed_ to know, but she just couldn't bring herself to ask Vegeta - not _now_.

Not when he'd already told her so much.

All she could tell with the insight she now had, was that it was most likely he wanted the dragonballs so he could exact revenge... She was sure of it. "An entire planet..." The Bluehead whispered, more to herself than to the man in front of her, thinking in horror of what such a fate must be like.

"Do you want to know more about the saiyan race?" Vegeta suddenly snapped, jumping from his chair. He was speaking loudly now, but he didn't seem angry at all. In fact, he sounded excited. As if he'd just come up with a brilliant idea!

"Vegeta," Bulma said softly, looking up to watch as he made a dash across the room.

"I can tell you what saiyans are capable of. What it means to be a member of an ancient warrior race." He said, a laugh lacing his tone. "In fact, I'll _show_ you - it's far too great to limit to simple words."

With that he pulled the door open and marched outside, and Bulma ran after him. "Vegeta!" She called, stopping in the doorway and watching as he marched across the grass.

"Watch and see what a true saiyan is capable of!" He called.

Where was he coming from? What was with the sudden change of mood? The Bluehead clutched the doorframe, feeling uneasy as the scene unfolded in front of her.

"There is no full moon out tonight." He called, looking down at his wrist as if he were checking the time. He placed his finger on it, clicking a button on a device that Bulma had never noticed him wearing before. As she watched, still standing in the doorway as a dark feeling of dread began to set in, something large seemed to shoot from the saiyan and into the sky. She looked up, and her eyes widened to see that there was now a large, round moon in the sky, where the crescent moon had once been.

"Are you ready to see what saiyans are capable of?" Vegeta called. He nearly sounded like a mischievous child that was getting ready to do something bad, his tone excited and ready as he reveled in the knowledge of what he was about to do. He laughed eagerly, balling his hands into fists.

The Bluehead looked back at Vegeta, who was gazing up at the moon now with his arms held out to his sides. "Don't!" She called in horror, remembering much too well what would happen to Goku during such circumstances. Her core was suddenly quivering with panic, her mind racing as she quickly rushed to think of what she could do to survive the night…

It was clear from her reaction that she had seen this happen before, but Vegeta was too far gone to take note of the terror in her voice. The saiyan could feel his skin starting to warm as he continued to stare up at the moon, taking in its shape, absorbing the light that was glistening down on him.

Suddenly Bulma covered her head protectively and broke into a run for the nearby woods, knowing that she'd be too easy of a target if she tried to seek refuge in the capsule home.

Vegeta noted her passing by, but he was too distracted to do anything to stop her. As he continued gazing up at the full moon he began to feel his muscles twitch. His blood was growing so hot that it seemed to steam the walls of his veins, a ringing in his ears as his body chemistry rapidly changed. He could feel it - the hairs shooting from every pore of his body, his skin pleasantly burning from the stretch. He blinked as his vision grew sharper, and he looked down to see that he was rising higher off the ground.

"He did it on purpose!" Bulma panted angrily, crawling over a fallen tree stump as she made her way as deep into the woods as she could. She knew too well that she would only have a few seconds before he completed his transformation and would be mindlessly wrecking destruction in his path. She needed to make sure that, no matter what, she didn't find herself in his way.

But, to her horror, she could already hear the loud foot steps approaching her from behind as she ran. How could he _do_ this?! How could he _knowingly_ inflict such a thing on himself, with no regard to her safety at all?! Bulma couldn't help but to feel a swell of _betrayal_ brewing in her stomach as she ran, thinking that she'd never forgive him for turning the night into such a struggle to survive.

She had no way of telling how old Vegeta was, but she knew he was a lot closer to her age than Goku had been, which meant he was likely stronger with his experience. He'd said he'd been the strongest on his planet, hadn't he?! How would that equate now that he had become a giant ape?! Goku had been so dangerous after he transformed - even as a _child_!

She was racing for cover behind a large tree when she felt it - something warm and large wrapping around her figure. She let out a scream, thinking that she would either be crushed from his tight grip, or that he would quickly cast her across the sky in a mindless act of rage. But neither happened, and instead she was being lifted meters into the air. Bulma clutched the inside of his fingers, gasping desperately as she tried to think of what she could do to get away. She could feel the sensation of her body growing heavier as he lifted her even higher into the air, and when the Bluehead finally opened her eyes, she was looking right into the face of a large ape.

She blinked, too overwhelmed to think as she waited for what would inevitably happen.

He was watching her, staring back at her with his giant red eyes. Looking at her so deeply that it seemed to penetrate her skin and left her feeling as if he had somehow cracked her mind open and was now reading her thoughts. So much time passed that he watched her that Bulma wondered if nothing might happen after all. Then, he opened his large snout. Instead of a deranged animalistic call as she had come to expect from one of these large apes, a single word came from his throat instead. "Bulma."

His body being as large as it was meant that his voice came out so loud that it made her eardrums throb, and she jerked in his hand from the shock of it. She bit her lip, cringing before looking back up at his hairy face. _"Wh-What?"_

But he didn't respond, still staring at her as if lost in thought.

 _This was different._ Never had Goku spoken an articulate word when he was in this state. He had always acted as if he had no memory of his friends at all, with only chaos and destruction seeming to be his natural instinct. But here stood Vegeta, terrifying, hairy, and large, and he was calmly watching her after speaking her name.

"You... You _recognize_ me?"

His eyes flashed, and he looked at her as if he wanted to snap _"of course!",_ but no words left his mouth. Instead, he gave her one last exasperated look as if she were blind to the obvious, before pulling her back from his face. Bulma let out a screech, having nearly grown calm under his gaze, and she clamped down on his fingers once again.

She hadn't been expecting it when he pulled his hand up to place her on his shoulder. The Bluehead, aware of how high she was in the air and terrified at the prospect of falling, scurried over to Vegeta's large neck and grabbed two handfuls of thick brown fur for leverage. The ape didn't even hiss as she yanked on his hair, and Bulma couldn't help but wonder if he could even feel such a thing with how large he was.

Perhaps she was wrong in assuming such a thing, though, because as her eyes clamped shut and she counted back from ten, she felt something. His large hand had reached up, and he was now dragging a single rubbery fingertip across her back. Her blue eyes popped open, gazing out at the night sky as he slid his finger over her body. But there was no malice in his touch. In fact, it was almost as if he were… _trying to sooth her?!_

He began to walk then. Now, instead of yanking on his hair, she was hugging his neck. Her whole body was encompassed by his thick fur as he moved. She was quickly understanding that he had no intention of actually hurting her, and she stared out at the forest below with sobered thoughts… Now that she was able to think about it, Vegeta was a giant ape - just as Goku had become - but he wasn't destroying everything around him in a primal act of chaos like her friend had... In fact, he had even _recognized_ her, and in his own way he had told her not to be scared... It was as if he had managed to somehow maintain his consciousness despite his change... _But how?_ How could it be?

"How long will you stay like this?" Bulma whispered, and she was surprised that he even heard her with how breathlessly she spoke.

"All night." He replied, and his booming voice came out with a tone that indicated he was trying not to speak so loud this time.

She nodded her understanding, and finally she summoned the courage to look ahead. "Oh," She gasped. It seemed that they were so close to the stars as she stared out at the forest below. The lights from the moonlit sky cascading down upon the sleeping wildlife, reflecting off the trees in a way she had never imagined before. "It's so pretty..." She breathed, hugging his fur tighter just to ensure she was secure…

… After his transformation had completed and he'd turned for the Bluehead, he could tell by her reaction that it was obvious she'd seen the great ape formation before. It was clear that Kakarot had changed in front of her – Vegeta could tell with how desperately she had been trying to get away, and how violently she was shaking when he had taken her into his hand after catching her. But Kakarot had been a low-class brute – there was no way he would have been able to control himself during such a state. _Of course_ she was frightened! The fool had likely tried to kill her. He couldn't help but wonder how she had avoided such a fate, but now was not the time to ask.

To know that she had already been aware that a saiyan could become a great ape came as an unexpected disappointment to Vegeta. He was surprised, even at himself, of how much _he_ had wanted to be the one to introduce her to the concept – to introduce her to this completely different aspect of being…

Perhaps she may have already known that such a capability existed, but it was obvious that she only knew of the destruction a Great Ape could cause. She had no idea what else it could entail… And so Vegeta began to walk through the forest with her, his head hanging above the trees, trying to give the woman on his shoulder a good view of what things were like from his perspective. She would never be able to change form the way he could, but perhaps she might still be able to understand the power that came with the transformation…

He has restrained from speaking to her any more than necessary. Even his voice, magnified and booming at his current size, was enough to make her heart pound so hard that he thought she might keel over. So he simply had given her a slight rub to indicate that she shouldn't be concerned about her wellbeing, and then he'd begun his stroll.

That night he walked her around the entire forest, which only took a couple of hours with his large strides, and the woman hadn't uttered more than a few words. She hadn't said anything for nearly an hour. When he made it back to where the capsule house was located, he had expected Bulma to jump from where she was and eagerly await him to put her back down in the grass, but she didn't move.

The ape closed his eyes and focused on her aura. It had been so clear that she'd been afraid earlier that he hadn't even bothered to trace it. But now, as he narrowed in on her ki – so _warm and calm_ \- he recognized it to be the same aura she always had when she was asleep.

Vegeta stepped even closer to the capsule house, taking the opportunity to sit down near a large tree that was settled on the boundary of forest. The house was about twenty meters away, and as he lowered himself towards the ground he knew that Bulma would jump at the prospect of being so close to the grass. But she didn't even move.

Curiously, Vegeta lifted his large hand and carefully placed his open palm against his shoulder. He felt her – laying down and nuzzled into his fur, and he quickly retracted.

_It was true – she really_ _**had** _ _fallen asleep on him…_

Intoxicated with the light of the moon, which his dark fur was still thirstily sucking up, and amazed that she had even been able to become so relaxed during their walk, Vegeta didn't even think to block her warm ki away like he was usually so quick to do. Instead he allowed the sensation to linger, trailing through every synapse of his spine and pumping through his veins, and he pondered on the girl that was now carelessly dozing into his hairy skin…

...This little Earth woman really had such a comforting aura when she wasn't upset, and it seemed that the more he encountered this sensation, the more satisfying it was to feel... The more difficult it was to let it go…

.

.

...Dawn was settling upon the field, and Vegeta could feel the soft rays of of the morning light clapping against his eyelids. He turned his head as he stirred, and in his movement his chin nudged against something firm. The saiyan opened his eyes to see that Bulma was laying against his chest, her arms wrapped loosely around his muscular frame. He took in a sharp breath, which caught in his throat, as realization fell on him.

The last thing he remembered was admiring how warm her ki was...

Now the sun was rising and he was laying with her in the grass, no longer in the form of an ape. He must have fallen asleep, and yet he had no recollection of it. One of his arm was thrown over her, as if he'd encouraged her current position at some point during the night.

He turned his head to see that they were laying in the same spot that he had sat down at the night before. From where they were he could see the capsule house, the lights still on inside as if it had been waiting for their return all night long.

_But how?_

Transforming wasn't exactly a comfortable sensation – not even to the experienced saiyan. How had he managed to revert back from being an ape without it alarming either of them? He didn't remember it at all! With how happily Bulma was snoozing against him, it was easy to suspect that his regression hadn't even woken her. In fact, he _knew_ that she had slept through it, because there was no way that she wouldn't have made a big scene from the ordeal…

The next thing Vegeta realized, as he continued to lay with this Woman, was that he still felt so numbingly _pleasant_ in that moment, her soothing ki surrounding him as he pondered everything. It was then that he remembered that he hadn't blocked her aura away at all after reading it the night before, and he'd been drenched with such warmth ever since. _The act of sensing ki was interesting, indeed…_

But, then again, he couldn't determine if this was even normal for sensing ki, since the girl laying on him was the only person he had done it with so far. All he knew was that it was far too intoxicating.

She suddenly let out a soft moan, nuzzling her cheek deeper against his chest as she seemed to revel in the feel of his form. This act was enough to create a pit in Vegeta's stomach. It was clear that she would be stirring for her sleep before long, and he didn't even want to think of the questions she'd have for him when that happened. What he knew most in that moment was that he wanted to be as far from this position with her as possible before she had the chance to open her eyes.


	10. Up To Speed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are meant to be a little bit lighter than some of the others have been so far. I hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

Something just didn't feel right, and as Bulma's jaw tightened with the displeasure of being awake she couldn't help but strain her eyelids to keep them closed. Light was hitting her in the face, tearing her away from her dreams far earlier than she'd been ready, but she'd be _damned_ if she was going to open her eyes just yet.

Bulma could feel something under her - _against_ her. Enough so that she realized she wasn't curled up in bed, nor was she uncomfortably laying on the plush couch in the living room of the capsule house. Though she hadn't looked around to scan her surroundings, the Bluehead was acutely aware that she was not sleeping in a familiar place. Still, she was far too groggy to understand what had happened or where she could possibly be.

At least, that _was_ the case, until she took note that whatever she was laying on was moving. Slightly and slowly, as if trying to keep from disturbing her, the figure underneath her chest was surely twisting away. It was then that Bulma recognized this action. She'd felt such a sensation plenty of times when her ex-boyfriend, Yamcha, was trying to get up in the middle of the night for a drink of water without waking her. But, she wasn't _with_ Yamcha, she thought. What on Earth could this be?

... And that's when it all came flooding back.

She snapped upright to a sitting position before her eyes were even fully open, and in front of her she saw two muscular legs. Standing above her and motionless as if in shock, Bulma looked up to see that Vegeta was peering down at her with wide eyes. She was breathing heavily, as if she'd just been jolted awake from a nightmare, and the two stared at each other in silence as they registered the scene.

' _Damnit,'_ Vegeta thought, feeling like an animal that had been caught in front of headlights. He'd tried to slip away without her noticing, but it hadn't worked! He couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. Had she woken at any point during the night? Did she remember more than he did? Had she been awake when he had apparently wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest? Even if she hadn't, what was she feeling now that she'd woken up like this?

This... this was bad. This was _really_ bad!

"You..." Bulma said hoarsely, groggily pulling herself to her feet. She was still breathing heavily, taking in a sharp pant as she dusted off the backs of her legs. A scowl was laced across her jaw, but it didn't take a facial expression to know that she was unhappy. Her voice had already done the job.

Vegeta didn't even bother responding - what was there to say? There would be no pretending this hadn't happened, no excuses or explanations. He wouldn't even have the chance of avoiding her until he'd had the chance to process everything, himself. The Bluehead had woken up in the middle of his exit, and any hope of those options were now gone. The saiyan felt ill when he remember that none of that might have mattered, anyway. For even if she hadn't caught seen that he'd been laying with her, there was no telling how much she already knew from the night before…

" _You_..." Bulma repeated, her tone even more irritated. The saiyan furrowed his eyebrows. Here it was - she was going to yell at him for putting his arms around her. She was going to call him dirty names and accuse him of unruly motives, claim he took advantage of her, cause a scene about her personal space…

It was coming.

But, something that Vegeta had learned early on in his time of knowing this woman, was that she was full of surprises. And as it turned out, this morning would be no exception to that trait.

" _YOU!"_ Bulma screamed, a furious palm flying through the air and colliding with the side of Vegeta's face. He felt a thud on his cheek, and the wide-eyed saiyan looked up to see that she was now nursing one of her hands. Evidently, this slap had hurt her far more than it had stung him.

But, it was so _weak!_ He would have thought she was intentionally holding back in her hit if she wasn't currently glaring at him as if she were about to sentence him all the way to hell. He put a finger to his assaulted cheek, noting again just how unperturbed it was despite all this.

And, as he stared into her wrathful eyes and considered her feebleness, he laughed.

It wasn't a hearty laugh, nor was it one that was mocking. It was more of a chuckle, as if Vegeta were appreciating a simple joke that had been made. His hand was still placed firmly on his face as he watched the woman in front of him, his dark eyes crinkling into a smile.

"Don't laugh at me!" Bulma yelled, looking up from her sore palm that was still throbbing with recoil. "What is _wrong_ with you! How _dare_ you!?"

Vegeta was no longer laughing now, and the amused smirk on his face was starting to fade. Here it came. The impending argument. She was probably going to claim that he'd tarnished her pride by getting physically close to her - or something to that degree.

"Do you know how much you scared me last night?! Transforming like that!" Bulma was shouting. "I thought I was going to die! That is _not_ okay, Vegeta!"

For the second time in only a few minutes, the saiyan was caught off guard by the Bluehead in front of him. She wasn't yelling at him about their sleeping positions? She hadn't even acknowledged that at all! The thing she was mad about was him changing forms? This wasn't at all how he'd expected the conversation to go, but Vegeta found he would gladly take it. "I wasn't going to harm you, Woman."

"My name is BULMA! And how was I supposed to know you weren't going to hurt me?! You could have _said_ something before just running outside and summoning some kind of artificial moon to change under! A little warning would have been appropriate, don't you think!"

"Perhaps I might have informed you, had I known you'd seen the Oozaru form before."

"O-Oozaru?" Bulma said, the hostility leaving her voice. For just a moment the rage evaded her eyes, and instead it was replaced with delightful curiosity as her brain surely morphed puzzle pieces together. But the moment was only temporary, and as soon as it came it was gone. "Of course I've encountered it!" Her eyebrows furrowed once again. "My _best friend_ was a saiyan, in case you've forgotten!"

"Right." Vegeta grunted. "So, you remember how he acted during such times, then. He killed anything that crossed his path, on a rampage for blood I take it?"

"Of course! And I thought you were going to do the same! I thought-!"

"Knowing that's how he behaved when he changed shape, was I wrong to assume it never happened at all?" The saiyan cut her off. "You _are_ standing here before me, alive and well, are you not?! Perhaps I knew the chance of you surviving such an event is so slim that I thought it must have never happened!"

All anger left her eyes then, and this time it was not just a temporary moment of distraction. She really was calming down. He made a good point, and as upset as Bulma was at the idea of him acting so recklessly, he was right. He really had maintained control of his actions… He really hadn't hurt her, and he really wouldn't have had a reason to give her such a disclosure if she'd never seen an Oozaru transformation before...

Now looking like her normal happy self, if not a big curious, the Bluehead was eying Vegeta up and down. "Hey..." She mumbled.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow. What was she doing? She was behaving so strangely this morning! Oh, why couldn't they just end this exchange already and start with their daily routine of traveling to their next destination, already?

Flashbacks of the night before were replaying in her head. While she had been so distracted by everything that had been going on, Bulma hadn't realized until now that Vegeta's muscle shirt and slim-fitting pants had stretched to accommodate his enlarged body after he'd transformed. She took a step towards Vegeta, holding a hand out to brush her fingers against the material on his chest. "Amazing!"

"What are you doing?!" He gasped, taking a step back.

"Your clothes... they didn't tear off when you grew..." She breathed, a wide smile on her face. Looking like someone who had just discovered the key to eternal enlightenment, the Bluehead looked up into Vegeta's eyes and beamed. "Your clothes reverted back to their original shape perfectly. You'd never be able to tell they've been through so much! This... This is amazing!"

"Well," Vegeta replied with a gulp. "Just, don't… Don't touch it."

"Okay, but you'll let me touch it when we get to my place, right?!" Bulma said, and there was so much breathless anticipation in her voice that Vegeta momentarily forget what exactly _**it**_ was. "You'll _what?"_ He gulped again.

"We have plenty of changes of clothes at home. You can wear something else while we inspect your outfit. I'll bet my Dad can find a way to replicate the material while I work on my special project, and we could have several new sets made before we go!"

"I don't need more sets of clothes." Vegeta replied. This morning had started with her trying to give him a verbal lashing, and less than five minutes later she was offering him favors? What in the…? _Surely_ this must have been a trap of some sort!

"Okay, then!" Bulma replied, looking somewhat offended by his rejection, yet still too excited to let it dampen her mood. "We won't give you any new clothes, if _that's_ how you feel. But – please, Vegeta - I still want to inspect the fibers in your pants! Oh, tell me you'll let me!"

"Don't say it like that!" Vegeta felt his cheeks burning. "Oh, alright, _fine!_ If you care _so_ much about how the material is made, then do what you wish. Just – stop! Stop with the subject right now!"

"Great!" Bulma squealed, and with that she turned and began to jog for the house. "Come on Vegeta, let's go! If we leave now we should be able to get home before sundown!"

She hadn't even uttered a word about the position she'd woken up in. For a moment, as he watched her running away so cheerfully, Vegeta considered that she might not have known they'd been cuddling overnight after all. But that just didn't make sense! She'd _seen_ him crawling away from her, hadn't she! Did she really not care?!

.

"We're here!"

Bulma was jumping up and down, clapping her hands together and humming happily as soon as the jet touched ground on the landing strip outside the Briefs' family home. "It's only been about a week, but it feels like it's been months!"

Vegeta, who had spent another day working out in the cargo area of the plane, had his arms folded over his chest as he waited for the Bluehead to open the door. He'd been keeping as much distance as he could from the bubbling woman beside him, trying to avoid any opportunity for her to bring up the compromising position they had been laying in that morning. But she hadn't even mentioned the matter, and as she stood beside him now it seemed to be the last thing on her mind. She was completely beside herself with the excitement of being _home._

"Come on!" She grinned as she clicked the button the open the door of the jet. "Let's get inside, and then you can take off your clothes!"

" _Stop wording it like that!"_ Vegeta croaked.

After being whisked up the stairs and through a dark house that was much less lively than the previous encounter the saiyan had with it, Bulma pulled Vegeta into a seemingly random room. "You can sleep in here." She said, waving an arm towards a bed that looked twice as thick as the one in the capsule house. "And there's a closet over there full of things you can wear while we work on your clothes."

The saiyan nodded, looking at the closet door and waiting to be left alone. He clasped his hands behind his back, listening for the sounds of descending footsteps, but none went. Slowly he turned to see that the Bluehead was staring at him expectantly, and he raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'm waiting." She replied.

"For?"

"For you to give me your clothes..."

"Vulgar woman!" Vegeta balked. "I'm not going to undress in front of you!"

"I didn't _tell_ you to!" Bulma hissed back. "Go in that closet and change! I want to be able to give Dad your outfit first thing in the morning! And keep your voice down! It's 1 am!"

He was cursing under his breath about this "insufferable weak Earth girl", but he turned and made for the closet nevertheless. A few minutes later, when he stepped out wearing a black shirt and a pair of red lounge pants, he thrust he folded up saiyan garb to the Bluehead and grumbled something else under his breath.

"It's not like you didn't undress in front of me the other night, anyway." She huffed.

"What?"

"On the boat. You took everything off in front of me, like it was absolutely no big deal. And you call _me_ vulgar now?"

"That was different." He growled.

"Hm. I don't see how." Bulma flipped her hair, crossing out the room. "I'll give these to Dad in the morning, then I'll resume work on my project."

"Just a moment. Wait."

She turned to see that Vegeta was coming after her. He held his hand out, grabbing her by the arm. "If you're going to be doing any physical labor, perhaps this will be in the way." He then pulled his hands away, and Bulma felt that her arm was suddenly lighter. She looked down to see that the golden shackle had been removed, with only a pale line around her wrist to mark where it had once been. She lifted her wrist closer to her face, inspecting the residual indent in her skin, and then she looked up to the man standing in front of her. "Took you long enough."

"Hm." He growled. "I have already explained why you were wearing that. I can't have you attempting escape schemes left and right."

"Well, that thing wasn't active for quite some time, was it? If it _ever_ even worked at all, that is."

"Of course it works!" He snapped.

"Do you know how deep the ocean is?" She offered with a knowing grin. "And do you realize you didn't even mention the bracelet when you were yelling at me for not trying to escape with Krillin? That thing never worked, and I know it! It was just a clever bluff!"

"It did work, and you'll see how much it is capable of when I put it back on you." The saiyan hissed back. "Next time you get caught by a winged lizard that's going to fly off with you, I'll leave it activated and we'll see if you're laughing then."

"You deactivated it because the lizard-?"

"I am not discussing this with you!" Vegeta quickly cut her off. "Just… Go to bed, Woman! You've been acting loopy all day!"

.

The next day Vegeta woke up before the sun was out, per usual. As had become routine for him, the saiyan kept his eyes closed so he could sense his whereabouts. This morning he was encountering several new auras that he hadn't felt before. This didn't perturb him, since he knew that Bulma's parents were living in this house. But what had surprised him, though, was the fact that the Bluehead wasn't eliciting that warm and gentle aura that always came with her dreams.

She was awake? Already?

The saiyan didn't bother changing his clothes, and he made his way for the stairs as he focused her location. By the time he reached the foot of the stairs he had decided that she must be in the same lab he'd visited before. _'Already busy,'_ He thought, and he was a bit amused that she must have only gotten four hours of sleep and had already put herself to work. She really _was_ excited to start her work!

"Is that you, Vegeta?" A voice called, so high in pitch that the saiyan was compelled to grab his ears and yell his grievances to the house he stood in.

A petite blonde appeared in front of him. Despite the early hour her lips were already painted a ruby red, and they stretched into an eager smile as she spoke. "Oh! It is you! Come on and sit down, sweetie! Breakfast should be done in 10!" Mrs. Briefs grabbed Vegeta's wrist and began to pull him towards the dining room. The saiyan tugged his hand back to his side, but he could smell the odor of sizzling meat and decided to follow her orders anyway.

She lead him to the dining area, where she immediately sat him down and gave him a glass of water to sip at.

"So, how did the trip go?" She asked, sliding into the seat across from him. "Did ya get all the dragon balls already?"

 _What was this?_ An interrogation first thing in the morning?!

Vegeta narrowed his eyebrows and growled.

"Ooh – how nice! Did you guys do anything else?"

The saiyan folded his arms over his chest and bit his tongue.

"Oh! Did ya do any sight-seein'? I bet you just went to the most beautiful places!"

Why wasn't she taking note of his body language? The saiyan moved his eyes down to the table as Mrs. Briefs continued to ambush him with her giddy questions. Even when she realized the meat was done cooking and she jumped for the kitchen to plate the food, her inquiries continued from the other room. Vegeta slapped himself in the face with his hand, wondering if a free meal was even worth this level of hounding, but before he could reach a conclusion Mrs. Briefs was back with several plates in tow.

"You know, I can see what Bulma likes about you!" Mrs. Briefs gushed, sliding back into the seat across from the saiyan as he began to devour his plate. "Oh - don't tell her I said that. She always gets so mad when I talk too much to her men."

"I'm _not_ her man." Vegeta hissed after gulping down a mouthful of meat. That being said, he could easily see the Bluehead's side to those arguments that her mother was hinting at. At least she understood how inappropriate this all was… At least there was _that._

"Well, whatever you are to her, I like ya. And Bulma is pretty choosey about who she trusts, so that says a lot, dear. She's only ever had one boyfriend, and that relationship ended years ago!"

Why was she telling him this? Did this blonde woman _really_ think he cared about her past conquests? Vegeta put his fork down and looked up at her, giving her a questioning look at her raised his eyebrows.

"Oh! Look at me, I've just said too much!" Mrs. Briefs used her hand to stifle a mischievous giggle. "Let me go work on the dishes! You eat up, honey! Have as much as you want!"

.

Five minutes later the saiyan had finished his fifth plate for the morning, and he was continuing his search for the Bluehead. "That was too weird." He was muttering as he marched across the house, using Bulma's ki as a guide for his trail. Just as he'd suspected, he found her in the same lab he had encountered their first day together.

This time her father was nowhere to be seen, and she was sat alone at a desk that was parallel to her dad's. The Bluehead was clicking some type of code into a computer when the saiyan walked up behind her. "Woman." He said, and his voice was so abrupt that she nearly toppled from her seat after letting out a sharp gasp. "Kami, Vegeta!" She hissed. "Don't scare me like that!"

"It's not my fault if you don't pay attention to your surroundings."

"Don't blame me!" Bulma stood up from her desk. "You're the one sneaking up on people!"

The saiyan glared at the woman in front of him. She was rather on-edge for such an early hour, but this wasn't his first encounter with the hot temper she got while working. Bulma was being just as mouthy as she had been when she was working out calculations on paper a few days earlier. It was clear that, whatever she was typing, she was certainly using up all her concentration on it. "How long is this going to take you, anyway?" He finally growled.

"It might be days, it might be weeks!" Bulma snapped. "I'm working as quick as I can, but I won't be getting much done if you keep coming in here and interrupting me!"

"Watch yourself..." The saiyan hissed through gritted teeth. He was quite certain that his eyes were starting to bulge as he fought to keep his composure. "What do you... suggest I do until then?"

"What do I-?!" Bulma's glare quickly dropped into a thoughtful smile. "Oh! Why didn't you just ask that to begin with? I know exactly what you can do!"

"Why didn't you _tell_ me to begin with? Last night would have been a good time!" Vegeta shot back, but the Bluehead was too distracted with her own mind to care. "Come on!" She said, walking towards the stairs to lead them away from the lab. "I'll show you something!"

She took them away from the parts of the house that he had already seen. And as Vegeta followed her with his arms folded over his chest, he was taken aback by how large this place truly was. "It's as if you live in a castle, and you're leading me to the dungeons..." He commented.

The halls were still dark from the early hour, but the sun was starting to rise in the sky. Through the windows pink and orange hues illuminated their path, which seemed to be never ending as they traveled through multiple corridors and cut across several rooms.

Just when Vegeta was about to ask how much farther they had to go, Bulma abruptly ended their trail at a thick looking door. "You know, this house was originally just a one bedroom unit. My parents had simple beginnings. But as Dad's career grew, he expanded. The part of the home that we live in is actually a separate building, but we connected the houses with a hallway."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow impatiently, wondering what this girl was getting at.

"Well, we only use this old unit for storage, mostly. But look, check this out..." With that Bulma finally turned the knob and pushed the door open, revealing a concrete room that the two stepped in.

The room was grey, from the floor to the ceiling. There were several blocks of metal scattered around the floor, and there was a florescent light that was buzzing above their heads. In the corner of the room was a weight bench, equipped with a barbell and plates that weighed up to 250 kilos.

"We stored a lot of junk in this old garage," Bulma said. "But when my ex-boyfriend started spending a lot more time around here, I decided to convert it into a gym for him."

Vegeta walked up to the bench, staring at its different parts as he tried to decide what to do with it.

"You can use that bar to-" Bulma offered, but she stopped short. The saiyan was already lifting the heaviest plates and loading them on to the barbell. He did it so breathlessly, as if he were simply lifting a piece of laundry! As the Bluehead continued to watch, Vegeta laid back on the bench, grabbed the barbells with both hands, and did 10 chest presses without even grunting. When he finished he slid the barbell back on its rack and sat up.

"You-" She sighed, amazement gleaming across her face.

"Not challenging at all, but it's better than nothing." Vegeta growled. "Impressive for Earth scum."

There wasn't much to say to that, so Bulma just let out a breath of air that she didn't realize she'd even been holding in. "My ex thought he was so impressive when he was able to lift that weight. And it took him months to work up to."

"Do you think I care what your ex thought?" Vegeta snapped, perhaps a bit more aggressively than the situation called for. "He sounds pathetic!"

"Hm..." The Bluehead turned with a shrug. She supposed she couldn't be too surprised by the saiyan's capabilities - this _was_ Vegeta, after all. Feeling intrigued, she made her way to one of the hunks of metal that was laying in the floor and bent over it. "What about this?"

The saiyan looked up from the bench to see as Bulma clicked a button, and the slab came to life. The metal object stood from where it lay, let out a loud buzz, and then began to lift off the ground and fly towards him. "What the?" He grinned and jumped back so he could dodge the robot, but it foresaw his move and followed him before slamming into his rib. It was enough to provoke a husky laugh from Vegeta, who caught the robot in his hands to keep it from flying into him again.

"It's attracted to your body heat." Bulma explained. She couldn't put her finger on why, but seeing Vegeta's reaction was making her smile uncontrollably. "You were just lifting those weights, so your body is warmer than mine. That's why it left me alone."

"That's a good way to work on my speed." Vegeta replied, throwing the robot across the room and readying himself as it came flying for him again. The saiyan, knowing what to expect, was able to dodge the robot six times before it hit him in the stomach.

"It works like a magnet – the quicker you move, the more it compensates. Though I have a feeling you'll be too fast for it once you're fired up enough." The Bluehead said, backing for the door. "Come let me know when you start getting bored, and I'll make some adjustments. I held back a lot when I set this thing up, but you're a lot stronger than my ex was. Any updates I make shouldn't take more than a couple of hours."

Vegeta didn't reply. Instead, he let out another deep laugh as he narrowly avoiding getting smacked upside the head with the robot. Bulma was so thrilled at watching the saiyan's delight in her creation that she felt compelled to laugh along with him! He just looked so careless and happy - who would have thought that getting beaten by a bunch of training bots would be the thing to do it for him? She nearly giggled at the devious flare in his eye, but she quickly stopped herself, stepping back towards the door instead. Just as she was about to exit the room she gave the man one last look. "Oh, and Vegeta?"

"What?" He turned to see what other surprise she might have in store for him, which earned him a consequential slam behind the knee.

"When you _do_ get bored with just one training bot..." She gestured to the other chunks of metal laying in the floor. "Keep in mind that there's three more."

"Wow." Vegeta licked his lips dryly as his heart began to race, the possibilities of dodging four robots at once flooding his mind. She had really created these? He'd make so much progress in his training, using these bots along. She really _was_ smart, wasn't she? This was all so brilliant!

If this was what she'd already been able to create, then what could the project possibly be?

' _What a woman...'_ The saiyan thought with a gulp, just as the bot slammed into his trapezius.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have quite a bit of the plot planned out, but my updates may start to slow down. Chapter 12 is when the plot will start to become thicker, and I imagine the scenes will be more challenging for me to write so it may take longer to compose.
> 
> Not only that, but I just started three college classes recently so I'm getting a bit slammed with assignments. I also work while I'm in school, so it'll make scheduling a bit tricky. I don't plan to stop writing because I love it so much, but my updates may be a little less consistent than I've been trying to keep them. I really am looking forward to what the next few chapters will bring though, so I'll be working hard to get these up regardless. :) Thanks for reading!


	11. The Big Reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that my updates might not be as frequently as I've been trying to make them, which is true. But here I am, posting a new chapter two days later! This one and my last update were actually one large chapter that I split into two. That's why I was able to post this one so soon. ;) 
> 
> I really am starting to get pretty busy, though, so I can't promise when the next update will be made. If you've been following me / reading my other stories for a while then you probably know by now that I always say this but I still try not to be gone for too long. I don't plan for it to take months for me to update again... It just might be longer than a week or two.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 

When Vegeta woke up one morning and realized that it had been seven days since Bulma had started locking herself in the lab for all hours of the day, he started to feel as if he was being fooled. _'I can't get used to this.'_ He thought bitterly as he made his way downstairs.

It had been an entire week that he'd been following this new routine of waking up before the crack of dawn, wolfing down the buffet of food that Mrs. Briefs had prepared for him, and then training with the bots until his next meal. By now Bulma had adjusted those machines to run even quicker. One of the robots was even designed with a built in taser, which would flash the saiyan with a jolt of electricity upon contact with his skin.

He worked out in the new training outfits that Dr. Briefs had created for him, which were so realistically authentic that at times Vegeta had trouble determining which set was his original. During some training sessions he wouldn't even try to dodge the robots at all, and instead would stand still and take all of the beatings and electric shocks that they had in them. During other sessions he would focus solely on his speed, bouncing back and forth across the old garage as robots brushed past him on either side.

He knew his physical abilities were improving with each passing hour. Even if he wasn't exerting himself as much as he'd had to in the past, those willful beating he took from the robots were taking care of him. It was in his saiyan DNA that with any injury he would recover to be even tougher and stronger than before, and he was enjoying inflicting numerous dents on his body for this process.

But it was now day seven, and he was starting to feel impatient. Other than the few times that Bulma had made adjustments to his robots, Vegeta hadn't seen her at all. And, if he was being honest with himself, he didn't like it at all. He'd gotten used to seeing her nearly _too_ much during their time together in the capsule house. Such a gap between contact just didn't sit right, and he was unnerved when he thought about exactly _why_ that could be.

Now it seemed she never left that lab! The saiyan didn't see her during any meals, and he certainly never overheard Mrs. Briefs chatting with her. He hadn't even noticed her retreating to her room for the night, and Vegeta was starting to wonder if she was getting any sleep at all. He'd certainly never sensed that dreamy calm of her's when he reached out for her ki!

… And he certainly _was_ feeling for her aura on a frequent basis, noting that her ki was growing more strained and weak with each passing day...

This morning he was intrigued when he traced her aura and found that she was waiting for him in the garage. Sure enough, when he walked in after breakfast, she was standing at the side of the room. Leaning against a wall, she was tapping her feet impatiently as she waited for him to come in. "There you are!" She said when she finally saw him, pushing herself off the wall and stepping towards him.

"What happened to you?" He replied, looking her up and down as he took in the scene. He hadn't seen her in at least three days, and he was surprised at how much she had changed since then. The glow that always seemed to be illuminating her eyes was now dull, her skin much more pale than usual, and her hair much more messy than she normally kept it. She really must not have been feeling like herself at all, for she typically would have snapped something back at the saiyan about how rude he was to ask such a question. Instead she acted as if she hadn't noticed at all, gesturing to a setup she had been working on in the center of the garage. "I need your help today."

What she had been pointing at was a thick cut of what appeared to be discolored iron. The slab was about the size of Vegeta's torso, and it was just as tall as it was wide. On all four corners of it were small patches of reflective coating, which had wires running out from them. The wires trailed across the floor and into a small receiver that Bulma was holding in her hand.

"What is this?" The saiyan asked, but the Bluehead didn't seem to be in the mood for receiving questions this morning. "I'm trying to finalize my project - _if you don't mind."_ She replied curtly. "All I need you to do is give this metal your best blasts. I need to make sure it can withstand your power."

He gave her a fierce look in response to the tone she was using, but he lifted his palm and shot a purple blast at the cube regardless.

"Hold it while I analyze the pressure levels." Bulma instructed, looking down at the controller in her hand and scribbling down its readings on a notepad. "Hm… not bad… Is that all you've got?"

"You want more?" Vegeta smirked.

"Give it more." She nodded.

The saiyan turned back to the box and raised his ki, causing the purple beam that was eliciting from his palm to grow brighter in color. The controller in Bulma's hand began to beep as the reading levels changed, and she quickly scribbled it all down on her paper. "Oh, this is great! Vegeta - more!"

This was just getting too good! The saiyan, ecstatic at the feeling of the energy surging through his body, grinned at her request. With a strained grunt, he raised his ki as high as he could in that moment. He powered up so much that a pale coat of silver began to illuminate his figure. "You sure you want more?" He growled, his heart fluttering as his aura reached a level he hadn't had to spike to in quite some time.

"Yes, Vegeta!" Bulma gasped, and there was now a smile on her face as she eyed the saiyan's glow. "I need to see what the absolute limit of pressure this material can take is. Blast it one more time!"

With a breathless yell Vegeta faced both of his hands to the box, a beam of bright green shooting from both of his palms and slamming into the metal slab. Bulma cringed from the light of the explosion and looked down at her receiver, quickly trying to read what it was displaying. When the blast dissipated and Vegeta's glow faded, the Bluehead looked up to see that the slab of metal was now a steaming crumple of ash. "Wow..."

The saiyan was out of breath, but he fought to maintain his composure in front of Bulma so she wouldn't see just how much of a strain that had really been for him.

"Well," Bulma sighed, looking down at her controller, which was now short circuiting. "I don't think any improvements I make will be able to withstand _that…"_

"What was the point to all this?" Vegeta panted. "-Other than how _good_ it felt…"

"You'll see..." She tucked her notepad under her arm. "I'm starting on the last phase of my project today. I needed to make sure the material I'm using with be able to hold up against what _you_ give it. It seemed like it was doing just fine until that last bit." She was making her way for the door, but Vegeta suddenly appeared in front of her to block her path. "Gah - Vegeta! Don't do that to me!"

"Not so fast." He said, still catching his breath. "We had a deal that you would tell me what your project is after a week of work, and it's been longer than that."

"I'm not ready to tell you yet!" Bulma retorted, stepping to the side to try and move around him. He caught her by the wrist and held her in place, raising a brow as he stared into her eyes. "You will update me on everything right now."

"I told you I'm not ready to do that! Just let me get back to work on it, and I'll be done soon enough!"

"And when exactly will that be?" He growled. "You're taking more than enough time as it is. I've been generous with you up until now…"

"It's been more complicated than I expected, okay? Look, Dad and I are starting on the final phase today, and we'll have it complete by the end of the week."

"You've said similar things to me before." Vegeta glared. "I'm growing impatient, Woman..."

"Since when have you _ever_ been patient?!" Bulma spat. "Now let me go! You're starting to hurt me!"

Vegeta stared at her face, noting the creases on her forehead as she glowered at him. Her eyes were pink and puffy, her lips just as pale as her skin. Finally, with a sigh, he released his hold. "You haven't been nourishing yourself enough."

"What's it matter to you?" She replied, moving for the door.

"You should eat before you continue."

"I don't need to eat!" She snapped. "I need to work on this! The sooner I finish, the sooner you'll get off my back about it!"

"Woman..." Vegeta gave her a tone of warning. "I want this project of your's to be completed, but I didn't tell you to neglect your body with lack of sleep and food. You _will_ eat right now."

"You won't tell what to do!" The Bluehead yelled, grabbing the knob of the door. "And my name is _Bulma!"_

"Damnit, Bulma!" The saiyan snarled. "Listen to me and eat some fucking food!"

The Bluehead turned at him to shoot him a glare. "You will _not_ tell me what to do!" She yelled one last time, and a second later she slammed the door shut as she began the march towards her lab.

.

" _I really can't get used to this."_

Another five days had passed without Vegeta seeing the Bluehead at all. He continued to work most of his days away in the gym, racing between the bots, practicing his power ups, and withstanding as many electric shocks and blows to the head as he could before eventually falling down.

Just as his daily habit dictated, the saiyan was also quick to trace the whereabouts of the Bluehead each morning when he woke and each night before he slept. No matter what, she was always sitting in that _damned_ lab. But something he was quick to recognize was how much stronger her ki was starting to become once again. It was clear that she was taking consideration into Vegeta's orders of self-maintenance… Much more than she had wanted to let on. It was enough to make him grin when he thought too hard about it, pleased that he was making an influence on her after all.

It was on that twelfth day of staying at the Briefs residence that she finally showed herself to him, meeting him in the garage after he returned from a hearty lunch. "So, you've finally decided to make your presence known." Vegeta sarcastically commented as he stepped through the door, though he was truthfully enjoying the act of looking her up and down again.

"Ha- _ha._ " The Bluehead replied, though she didn't seem to be in nearly as bitter of a mood as she had been a few days earlier. "I thought you'd want to be the first to know that I've completed the project."

"Is this the truth, or are you trying to deceive me?" The saiyan raised a suspicious brow. She hadn't even told him what the project was yet. Each time he'd asked she would blow him off and yell that she wasn't ready. Now she was saying that she was actually _done?_

"Yeah, it's all finished!" Bulma broke into a smile. She was looking twice as elated as she had a moment earlier, rocking back and forth on her feet as she beamed at the man in front of her. Vegeta examined her face, noticing that her skin now had color again, and her eyes were no longer so fatigued. She really _had_ started taking better care of herself, hadn't she? The saiyan folded his arms over his chest, as it was traditional for him to do, and he smirked. "So. Let's see what this top secret _special project_ was all about."

"Okay!" Bulma squealed. She pulled a capsule from her pocket, turned, and threw it into the center of the garage. When the yellow smoke faded and revealed what had been tucked inside the pod, Vegeta was surprised to see that there was now a large cube in front of him. It was almost tall enough to reach the garage's ceiling, and the diameter was about the size of the bedroom in the capsule house. It was small - but certainly nothing to scoff at. There would be plenty of space to move about inside. "Bulma... What in the-"

"Shh." The Bluehead walked to the end of the cube and pulled open a door that Vegeta hadn't noticed before. "Come in here and watch."

The saiyan followed her command, walking into the cube and stopping in the center of this strange room. He looked around and realized that the walls were made up of the same metal that Bulma had been asking him to blast a few days earlier. In fact, so was the floor… He turned to see that she was still standing outside, peeking her head in through the door. "I'm not like you, so I won't be joining you for the test run." She said, waving a remote in her hand. She was still grinning, but now there was a mischievous flare in her eyes. "Brace yourself."

"For what?" Vegeta scowled. The look on her face was so devious that for a moment he thought she might have just conducted some elaborate type of trap. Before he had much time to think she slammed the door shut, and through a glass paneling on the door he could see her clicking a button on the remote. Vegeta heard a loud beeping sound, and he looked up to notice that there was some type of computer installed in the far corner of the room. It was flashing a green light, and a second later was when _it_ started.

"What the-" He began, but his jaw was quickly growing heavier, and he paused mid-sentence. His feet were digging into the tile, his muscles quivering as they urged to sink towards the floor.

The machine was softly humming now, indicating that whatever was happening had been intentional by this computer.

Utilizing all the strength in his muscles just to keep his balance, Vegeta turned back towards the door and saw that Bulma was watching him through the glass panel with ecstatic eyes. She looked down and clicked something on the remote again, and suddenly the machine's humming stopped.

The saiyan's body ceased its tug towards the floor with such abruptness that he nearly lost his balance, and the door to the room was swinging open again. "It worked!" She sang. "I saw your body tense up. I just know it worked!"

The saiyan couldn't even form words, he was so amazed. He simply stared at her with wide eyes as she jumped up and down in front of him, a giddy blue blob that seemed to bounce in _all_ the right places... "Don't you like it?! Oh - this will no doubt work wonders for your training routine! You can even use the bots in here if you'd like, but I'll have to reinforce their bodies if you want to set the gravity level fairly high."

"Woman..." Vegeta breathed. "You..."

"I can't believe it's actually finished! I thought I was going to go crazy when I was working through the system's bugs!" The Bluehead was running her hands through her hair, staring into Vegeta's eyes as she rambled. "This should be able to fit in the back of the jet while we travel! It'll be a tight fit, but it'll work! I tried to design it to not exceed the jet's weight limit, either! I-"

"This was your special project?" Vegeta interrupted her. "Gravity manipulation?"

"Yeah..." Her face was starting to lose some of its enthusiasm at the tone in his voice. "Why?"

"You… Created a device that manipulates gravity." Vegeta repeated. There was an off feeling welling in his gut. She had mastered something so impossible, and he hadn't even known what to expect. He'd stupidly walked into what could have been a perfect trap, and he'd done it just because she'd told him to! If she had wanted to, she could have easily crushed him while he was locked in that room and he wouldn't have been able to figure out what was going on in time to even know the cause of his own death.

_Yet, she hadn't._

This was a recurring trend with her, it seemed. She had initially risked her life just to try and get away from him, but now she was ignoring all types opportunities left and right that she could easily take advantage of to rid herself of him…

"What's wrong?" Bulma was asking now. Vegeta was quickly approaching her, the expression on his face far from pleased. "Don't you like it?" She continued, the smile completely faded from her cheeks.

" _WHY_ did you do this!" He snapped. "What is the reason for this?!"

"I..." Bulma blinked. "What?"

"Answer me!" He barked. "You've hardly slept or eaten for the better part of two weeks in order to create this weaponry. And for what?! What is the purpose of it?!"

"What do you mean?" She replied, biting her lip. "I told you, already - I thought it would help you train..."

"What do you care about my training?!" He yelled. "It's none of your business!"

"Don't you want to be able to take on the person who's coming after you?!" Bulma snapped back. This wasn't how she'd expected the big reveal to play out. She'd been hoping he would be impressed by her capabilities, perhaps even a bit appreciative. She _hadn't_ been expecting him to start yelling at her and acting like she'd done something wrong!

"I've heard from a reputable source that you don't trust very easily..." Vegeta muttered. "So why trust _me_ with something of this capacity? What have I told you about trust?! Why do you insist on seeing good when there is none?!"

"Why are you such a _jerk?!"_ Bulma shot back. "I already told you why I did this – it's because I wanted to help you with your training!"

"Enough with your lies!" The saiyan snapped. "Answer me now, Woman!"

"I just wanted to help you beat that _bastard_ , okay?!" The Bluehead barked back. "I just thought that this might help you train to beat the horrible person who stole your planet from you!"

"What do _you_ know of the one who destroyed my planet?" He growled. "It isn't any of your business. You know nothing of it!"

"Yes I do!" Bulma screamed. "That bastard who destroyed your planet is coming after you, isn't he? He needs to pay for what he's done!"

At hearing this Vegeta reared back, and for a moment he looked shocked at what she said. Perhaps she was getting through to him, after all. The Bluehead stepped forward so she could continue with her point. "Anyone who can kill an entire planet full of people is a monster, Vegeta! He's a _monster!_ How could someone live with themselves when they've done something like that?! He needs to see recourse for what he's committed!"

Any sign that he might have been considering what she was saying immediately wore away. "You don't know anything, Woman!" Vegeta snarled again. "What you know of my history is only a slight portion of it – one that I've _chosen_ to share! In the grand scheme of things you're absolutely ignorant to who I am!" He grabbed her by the arms then, giving her a forceful shake as he yelled. "You have _**no right**_ deciding to intervene in my matters! What have I already told you about thinking there is good in others where there is none?! Why won't you just accept people for what they've already shown you they are?! Stop being so -!"

His voice was so loud that it was ringing in his own ears, and Vegeta's tongue caught in his throat. He paused mid-sentence, panting to catch his breath. Still holding her firmly in place, the look on her face made the saiyan instantly regret what he'd done.

… Perhaps he really _was_ overreacting… This time he really might have gone too far…

"You know what? If I was the person that everyone believes me to be simply because of first impressions, I'd be a lot of things… But it certainly wouldn't be anything like the person I actually am." Bulma breathed, glaring into his eyes. "Do you know what it's like to grow up with this damned hair and these fucking eyes, or to have an eccentric scientist as a father? Do you know how much shit I had to go through because of it?! How the people I went to school with would bully me and try to shove me around? Of course, whenever I would finally defend myself and hit someone back that just made _me_ the witch! Do you know how the other students avoided me like the plague, and how many people still do now that I'm grown?! Everywhere I go, people are attaching labels to my name and ridiculing me – I'm either crazy, spoiled, ugly, weird, arrogant, stupid, or a combination of all of them!"

Her voice was shaking now, but she continued on. "It's amazing how I was ousted because of who my father is, and yet everyone _loved_ to tell me how much of an idiot I am. Oh, they _all love_ tothink that the blue haired bimbo is an airhead! I am judged every day based on what people think they see in me, and I refuse to do the same to other people, Vegeta! I won't! I know there's a lot more to you than there appears to be, and even more than you want to let on!" She dropped her face now, shaking her head as tears welled in her eyes. "God – even _you did it_ to me!You assumed I was stupid and weak when you kidnapped me, and even now you still don't want to admit what I am capable of! I saw the look on your face when I showed you what the project was just now – even you didn't think I had it in me! You just-"

It was then that Vegeta grabbed her shoulders and gave her another jerk, this time much softer than the last. "Bulma." He wasn't yelling anymore, but his voice was still firm and came out as a command. The Bluehead opened her eyes and looked up, her mouth dropping open as she paused in the middle of her rant. She was breathing heavily, tears slowly streaming down her face as she waited to see what he had to say.

But the saiyan didn't speak.

Slowly he brought a hand up. Tracing it across her hairline, the saiyan caught a strand of blue between his fingers and laced his fingertips down to her chin. _'Ridiculed over such hair…'_ He thought, never having considered that this woman would have been ostracized from the society she was born in. He rather liked her hair… What was there to complain about?

"Vegeta?" Bulma said, her voice still shaking with emotion.

"Hm…" The saiyan muttered, now staring into her eyes. Something about them had always intrigued him… Ever since the day they'd met, even when he had been trying his damndest to intimidate her, those eyes of hers had fascinated him.

… Who would mock such captivating gems?

… _Who would actually treat this Woman as a lesser being?_ If anything, he'd assumed her history to have consisted of the exact opposite. She was an elite, wasn't she? _This_ was how the people on the planet treated their superiors?

She was still panting from her rant as he continued to run a hand along her face. _'What is he doing?'_ Bulma thought, shivers running down her spine at the feel of his calloused touch. He wasn't speaking at all, and the way he was looking at her was enough to make her forget what she'd just been screaming about. Even the manner in which he was stroking her was confusing – it was so careful and soft - such a far contrast to the way he normally handled anything. The other night, when he'd initially touched her as he'd been helping her tend her wounds, he'd been so incredibly rough. Had he really learned from her complaints that night? Did he remember that she needed a softer treatment?

' _Oh-'_ The Bluehead's breath caught in her throat. Vegeta was now using the knuckle of his fist to brush a few loose tears away from her cheeks. He had broken eye contact so he could momentarily examine his hand, which now glistened wet with her tears. He raised an eyebrow, as if the existence of the drops alone had been enough to insult him, and then his eyes slowly moved back up to hers.

 _What was he doing?_ She needed to know what was going through his mind. Vegeta had always been a man of few words, but Bulma wished now more than ever that he would tell her what he was considering...

And then, just as she was about to open her mouth to break the silence, he grabbed her chin and pulled her face towards his own.

She felt hot air clapping her skin, and then his mouth was on hers. The Bluehead's eyes immediately flew shut, raising her brows in absolute shock at what was suddenly happening between them.

 _He was actually_ _ **kissing**_ _her?_ She didn't think he'd have it in him to push his arrogance aside for enough time to do such a thing!

But then, as she stood still and considered his actions, she became rather aware of his posture. His embrace was stiff and reserved, as if he wasn't so sure of what he was doing, himself. Yet he pulled her closer into his form, not breaking the kiss for a moment.

… Actually, this wasn't very much of a kiss, but rather he was simply holding his tight-lipped mouth against her own… and he _wasn't_ pulling away. Participating in an awkward peck that didn't seem as if it was going to end any time soon, Bulma opened her eyes to look at his face.

His own eyes were shut as he stood frozen, his arms still holding her where she stood. There was no indication of discontent on his face, like she had been partially expecting at this point. But he was so stiff, and he hadn't done anything to deepen the embrace since initiating it! Again, the Bluehead got the impression that he wasn't sure of what he was doing – though she couldn't decide if it was that he was an inexperienced kisser, or if his own mind was shocked at his actions and he was trying to figure out how to retract.

' _Idiot!'_ Vegeta thought, his heart-rate increasing as reality set in that he'd just taken things to a new level with the Earth Woman. _'What are you doing!? What's_ _ **wrong**_ _with you?! Stop it!'_

But he couldn't bring himself to cease, despite how much his brain was berating him.

' _Let go of her and back away – right now! God, you're so_ _ **weak!**_ _Look at you – you pathetic fucking slime. You disgust me! You can't even keep a grip of yourself enough to stand true to your race - like a_ _ **real**_ _saiyan would!'_ Vegeta could hear himself screaming those exact words at two of his comrades, Nappa and Radditz, during many of their purging missions. Those guys always made it a point to single out women they wanted to conquer, which always disgusted the saiyan prince to think of how low his fellow men would stoop. Now, ironically, he was mentally yelling the same things at himself… And yet he still couldn't bring himself to end what he'd started.

In fact, as his mind pelted him with insults and threats, he felt himself wanting to laugh. He had no desire to end this moment with the Bluehead. Actually, it felt much more certain than any experience he'd ever had with a woman before ever did. It didn't feel so pathetic or forbidden – it felt **good.** _'Shut up,'_ His mind replied to itself. _'You of all men should know –_ _ **I**_ _don't take orders from anyone.'_

They had been standing like this for over two minutes, and the entire time Vegeta hadn't moved at all. With each passing second Bulma was starting to believe that the saiyan was _really_ not enjoying this activity, but the thought only served to confuse her even more. If he wasn't enjoying this, why didn't he push away?! His lips were still pressed so tightly against hers, and he seemed as if he would stay like this indefinitely! Unsure of what to do, the Bluehead finally pulled back so she could get a better look at his face.

_And there it was._

He was opening his eyes and was looking back at her, his jaw tight and his pupils wide. Not any word or twitch of emotion.

"Vegeta...?" She breathed, studying his face.

He didn't respond. The saiyan just continued staring at her, looking as if he was lost in his own head. She could tell that thoughts were swarming his mind, and he appeared to be deeply conflicted with whatever was being spoken inside. It was then that she understood – he really _was_ in disbelief at his own actions. He couldn't fathom what he'd just done, and now the man in front of her was trying to decide how to handle the situation. He was most likely trying to determine which excuse would be best for what he'd just done.

…She'd never seen him look so remorseful...

"Vegeta..." She leaned closer into him, hoping to pull him out of this trance he was in. "I... it's okay. Look – it's okay. Don't worry about it. Nothing has to change between us, alright? We can just pretend this didn't hap-"

He grabbed her then, pulling her into his chest and slamming his lips against hers once more. This time there wasn't any awkward hesitation in his actions, and instead he massaged his lips against her own. Her arms flew around his neck, surprised that he was actually showing enthusiasm now. His hands were gripping her waist, curling his fingertips into her skin. And when Bulma opened her mouth to lick his bottom lip his hold tightened, a low growl curling from his throat.

He pulled away to eye her, and she was looking back at him. This time she was the one who appeared bewildered, while he just studied her features with a determined flare. She really _was_ a fascinating woman…

… Just as he was starting to open his mouth to say something, he felt a sudden jolt. He paused, and then he quickly turned away to glare at the wall of the garage.

"What – what is it?" She breathed, thinking that perhaps he'd heard one of her parents and thought they were about to be walked in on.

The saiyan narrowed his eyes, wishing he wasn't still so new at sensing ki. Somewhere far away he could feel something happening, and it wasn't good. It was so far in the distance that he couldn't decipher where it was coming from, and yet it was strong enough to make his stomach twist. Countless life energies that he could feel spiking before abruptly disappearing. There was no gradual decrease of energy, no subtle fading of life. Somewhere far away people were dying – they were exerting their energy, probably trying to run away from the one that was butchering them… And there certainly was _someone_ that was doing it to them, he could tell _that_ much…

… At the mass quantity that the deaths were occurring at, is was only possible for this to mean one thing...

"Vegeta?" Bulma said nervously, feeling uneasy by the sudden alarm on his face, but he didn't reply.

How had he been found so soon?! He'd taken all precautions to ensure that he would not be traceable by the time anyone realized he was missing. Nobody should even be suspicious for another two and a half months!

 _How_?!

He couldn't sense who it was that was committing this genocide, but he still knew exactly who it would be. And this person would be coming for him.

Soon.

Vegeta needed to find them before they came for him. The last thing he wanted was for them to track him down to this house, and discover Bulma... He needed to steer the attention away, away from the Bluehead that was standing right beside him. She didn't ask for this. She hadn't willingly agreed to Frieza's wrath when Vegeta had decided to take her captive and abandon his mission. He needed to keep her away from that monster's fury!

"Stay here!" He finally barked.

The Bluehead was holding on to his bicep, and she tightened her grip. "Why? What is it? Tell me what's wrong!"

"There's no time. I need to take care of something."

"Veggie?" The Bluehead tried to keep him from walking away, but he quickly moved out of her hold. He didn't even need to feel her ki to know she was afraid. By now he had come to understand that _Veggie_ was a name reserved for when she was fearful, though he wasn't sure where that came from or why she did it. "I will be back, but if I am not here by the end of the day I need you to do something."

"Wha-"

"I will be back." Vegeta repeated. He couldn't look at her in the eyes when he said it, though. He didn't even know if this would be a true statement. For all he knew, he might be about to fly into the battle that would result in his own death. He wasn't ready for Frieza yet! What he was sure of was that he needed to get away, before they traced him to this house. Frieza just _couldn't_ learn about her...

"Look. If I am not back by sunset, it is of utmost importance that you leave immediately to continue the search for the dragonballs - without me." He was pulling on his saiyan armor, which had been lazily tossed in a corner of the garage days earlier. "If I have not caught up to you by the time you have obtained the last ball, then I want you to wish for two specific things."

"But the balls will only grant one wish!" She replied, and Vegeta paused what he was doing upon hearing this. He looked down, letting out a deep sigh as he considered this news. Finally, after several seconds of silence, he sighed again. "Okay. Then you must wish for your _own_ immortality. Do that as soon as you are able. Then I want you to find the balls again – I'm assuming they'll disperse or something and you'll have to start from square one. If I have not found you at the point that you're ready for a second wish..."

"...Veggie..." Bulma breathed, her voice quivering now. Her head was nearly spinning. She knew fully well what he was going to say, and she didn't understand how this could all be happening so suddenly. Her veins were curling with terror, her lungs growing short of breath.

"... Then I want you to wish for me to be brought back to life." He turned then, making a straight path for the door.

"Wait! Just tell me what's going on?!" Bulma jumped after him. "Did _he_ find you? Is _he_ here!?"

Just as Vegeta was about to step out the door, he paused. With his hand on the knob, he slowly he turned to look at her from over his shoulder. "Woman... do you trust me?"

"Veg-"

"Do you trust my instinct, my experience, and what I deem to be necessary?"

"Of course I do!" Bulma snapped, not even thinking before she answered.

" _Of course?"_ Vegeta nearly fell back. He'd expected her to begrudgingly admit she did, or even lie when he knew the truth… But he hadn't been expecting her to declare this so confidently! _"OF COURSE!?"_

"Well... Yeah..." Bulma smiled, knowing perfectly well that she sounded absolutely crazy in admitting such a thing about the man who had originally taken her by force. "You're really smart... and-"

"You…I can't believe you! I don't understand _why_ you..." The saiyan groaned. "Look, we'll have to discuss this later. But if you trust me as you say you do, then I want you to remember and do exactly what I've told you. And in the meantime, I also want you to think hard about what you've just said. Understand?"

"I just wish you would-"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

He was staring into her eyes, still holding the door open as he continued to stand in the entrance of the garage. He was watching her so intently, and the terrified Bluehead could only bite her lip and nod. Before she had the chance to open her mouth and try to ask what was going on again, he was already gone.


	12. All Alone

* * *

Even as he flew closer to the location where so many people were actively being killed, Vegeta was having trouble deciphering any ki from the culprit. He initially thought that perhaps it was due to him still being relatively inexperienced in tracking such a thing, but the closer he got to the source the lesser that made sense. Even if he wasn't used to sensing the specific ki of Frieza or his henchmen, he should still be feeling _something_ noteworthy!

All he felt, though, were the neverending traces of aura that were spiking before abruptly disappearing from all senses, as civilians continued to die.

After what felt like, and truly may have been hours, Vegeta narrowed the attack down to an island in the middle of the ocean. He landed a few streets away from where the destruction was currently taking place, in a vicinity that looked like it had already been under attack. He was surrounded by bloody human remains, building with craters blown into them, and strips of land where grass had one blossomed but had now been charred from existence. Trying to gauge the situation before going in for the attack, Vegeta closed his eyes and tried to reach out for the attacker's ki yet again, but he still had no success.

Two streets away were the sounds of screaming, running, falling, and other symptoms of chaos as the terrified civilians tried desperately to get away. Vegeta walked into the alley behind a half-destroyed apartment building as he listened, trying to make out any pattern that would be from the attacker.

"It's awful, isn't it?" A familiar voice asked from deeper into the alley. Vegeta looked up with a growl to see as a short bald man stepped out from the shadows.

"What are _you_ doing here?" The saiyan snapped, clearly unnerved that he was having to speak during a moment like this.

"I could ask the same. Did you finally figure out how to sense ki, or something?" Krillin replied.

"Obviously." Vegeta snapped. "I know enough that I sensed _you_ hovering around the Woman's house for four days!"

"You knew?" Krillin stuttered, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. "I was just trying to make sure she was okay, is all..."

"It doesn't matter right now." The saiyan hissed, pulling Krillin deeper into the alley. "How long have you been here? Tell me what you know!"

"I know enough to understand that they aren't giving off any life auras!" Krillin choked.

"THEY?" Vegeta's eyes widened. This actually made him feel better to hear. It meant that Frieza wasn't here himself, but instead had sent his favorite posse, the Ginyu Force, after him. The saiyan wasn't happy at all, but he stood a far better chance at winning in battle against those blubbering oafs than he would against Frieza. "So it isn't just me – they're somehow disguising their ki." He growled, leaning against the brick wall behind him as began to put together a strategic plan.

"How'd you learn how to sense ki, anyway?" Krillin blinked. "Well anyway... the people doing this… It's these two... Well, I don't know how to describe them, really." He shook his head. "I saw them - they were right in front of me, but I just couldn't... I couldn't attack. There's no _way_ I stand a chance!"

"What color are they?" Vegeta growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. This fool in front of him sure was proving to be absolutely useless with all his blubbering! The sound of the chaos was moving further away as the two men spoke, which the saiyan was noting as odd. Shouldn't those doofs from the Ginyu Force be aware of his presence by now and seeking him out? Why were they moving farther _away?_

"Umm..." Krillin blinked, as if he were uncomfortable with the question. "I mean... they were the same color as me..."

"As _you?_ " Vegeta nearly yelled. What the hell was this?!

"Yeah, it was some blonde girl and a guy that looked like her twin brother, but he had black hair. They honestly looked like a couple of kids. I thought they were these innocent teenagers until I found out they were the ones killing everybody."

"So it isn't the Ginyu Force?" Vegeta grinned. This news was just getting better and better! Evidently, Frieza still had no idea concerning his whereabouts! He'd take care of those bothersome pests in no time!

"What's the _Ginyu_ \- hey! Wait!" Krillin tried to grab for the saiyan as he took off into the air, but Vegeta was too quick. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm going to go discipline some children, and then head back from whence I came!" Vegeta barked. "It's been a while since I've had a good fight. Perhaps you should come watch, and maybe you'll learn a thing or two about dignity!"

The Z-Fighter blinked dumbly at the man who was flying off so confidently. "I tried to warn you..." He muttered, but as soon as the words left his mouth he shook his head. "Hey - wait a minute! Why should I care if he listens? He tried to _kill_ me!" Still, Krillin couldn't deny that he was interested to see if this psychopath truly would have what it took to defeat those two monsters. Reluctantly and carefully, he rose up into the sky and began to follow behind.

.

"This is getting pretty old." The girl muttered, watching lazily as yet another house went up in flames. Her brother had a grin on his face as the people standing around him disbanded in terror, each civilian desperately hoping they'd be the lucky one to survive.

"Please no!" Someone was crying as he grabbed her at random and pulled her back towards him. "Please!"

"I'll let you live if you give me some information, got it?" He replied. "I'm lookin' for a guy named Goku. Got any idea where I can find him?"

"I-" The woman trembled, sobbing hysterically in his hold. "I've never heard that name before!"

"Great." The boy sighed. "Another useless one."

Before the woman had a chance to beg for mercy the boy had lifted his palm to her face. He didn't even warn her before firing a white beam from his hand, her sobs being cut short by the explosion of her brain.

"God, Seventeen!" His sister yelled from behind. "Let's just get out of here. Nobody knows anything, come on!"

"Not until everyone has been questioned, Eighteen." He replied. "Someone has to know something."

"This isn't even fun anymore!" Eighteen rolled her eyes. "Everybody's been saying the same thing. It's so predictable! Where's the excitement in that?"

"Fine." Seventeen kicked the headless body that he'd just dropped. "Let's go interrogate one more street, and then we'll try a different town."

The boy was starting to turn around, wanting to look over at his temperamental sister, but a blast hit him in the back. Seventeen's feet ripped from the Earth as he was thrown back into a nearby car, his figure creating a dent in its body.

Eighteen's eyes widened. Now, she hadn't predicted _that!_

She could hear a smug chuckle coming from the sky, and she turned to see a muscular man with spiky hair laughing at them.

"The first rule of combat." He called, as he began to lower himself to the ground. "Always be aware of your surroundings..."

Seventeen was pushing himself out from the side of the car. "Hey..." He growled, looking down and noticing that his designer jeans now had a rip in one of the knees. "You messed up my favorite pants…"

"Second rule of combat." Vegeta continued, turning towards Eighteen and smirking at her. She raised an eyebrow, curling a strand of blonde shoulder-length hair around her finger. The saiyan held his hand out towards her now, aiming his palm at her stomach. "... You mustn't start havoc without a plan, child."

" _Child?"_ Eighteen watched as a purple light began to illuminate out of this stranger's palm. She had her hands on her hips, and as the beam began to spray out the towards her, she jumped back. Performing a slow backflip in the air, she calmly dodged the beam without it even grazing her.

"What?" The saiyan growled. What the hell was _that?_

"We're going to make one thing clear."

He spun around to see that Eighteen was now standing right behind him. Her face was neutral, if not a bit bored, as she looked into his eyes. "I am _not_ a child."

Vegeta swung a punch as her, but she quickly raised a hand to block his attack. In the same motion she shot her knee out towards the saiyan's gut, but he lifted his own leg to block that. He swung another fist with his other arm, and Eighteen quickly deflected it - just as she'd done with the first one. _'She's so fast!'_ Vegeta thought as the two continued dodging each other's assaults.

"Hey, you still bored, Eighteen?" Seventeen was calling from behind. He had a laugh in his voice, clearly finding amusement from this ordeal. Eighteen's face had become a bit more strained than it had been before the punches started being thrown, but she was still blocking all hits with no apparent effort whatsoever. "Meh. It's alright." She replied. But she spoke too soon, her lip curling as Vegeta's knuckles finally came into contact with her solar plexus. She didn't even scream as she went flying back, slamming into a nearby light-pole.

"Third rule of combat." Vegeta was a bit more winded than he would have liked to admit, but he still smirked. He now turned towards Seventeen and shook a condescending finger at him. "Don't _ever_ engage in battle with the prince of all saiyans."

"Hm." Seventeen kicked himself from the car he'd been leaning on. "Saiyan, you say?"

"Think he's the one?" Eighteen called, walking back from where she'd been. Vegeta lifted an eyebrow, turning back towards the blonde girl. She was already back on her feet?! He'd given these two a beating just now! Why were they both so calm and unscathed?

"Tell me something." Seventeen said. "You don't happen to be named Goku, do you?"

"Goku?" Vegeta growled, raising his fists. The two were walking up to him from different directions, and he was twisting back and forth to make sure one of them wasn't going to try a surprise attack.

"Yeah. We've got a score to settle with him. Know him?"

" _Know him?_ " The saiyan turned around to make sure the blonde girl wasn't going to throw an attack while his back was turned. He began to chuckle now, which gradually transitioned into a full blown laugh. "Do I _know_ him? He's dead, you morons! Your precious Goku is _dead!"_

"Hm." The boy put his hands on his hips. "Think he's tellin' the truth?" Seventeen looked up to his sister, seemingly unbothered by the saiyan's mocking words.

"Hm." Eighteen shrugged. "Maybe."

They began to step closer to the saiyan, who was still laughing manically as he yelled more insults at them.

"You could be lying…" Seventeen commented.

"… Or maybe Goku really is dead." Eighteen finished.

"Either way, I think we'll have our fun with you for now. Then we'll go find out if he really _is_ dead."

Vegeta stopped laughing as the two closed in on him. "You idiots…" He growled, readying his pose. "I've already told you rule number three."

He swung around and fired a blast at Seventeen, who he'd had his back turned to a moment earlier. As soon as he did this the boy faded from view, and Vegeta felt a stabbing pain in his rib instead. His eyes widened, only one word coming to mind.

' _Shit.'_

.

It was nearing 11 P.M., and Bulma just couldn't sleep. She was curled up in the plush bed in the capsule home - the one that Vegeta had taken over during their journey a few weeks earlier. It was ironic that she had so painfully wished she could be the one in that bed during her uncomfortable nights of sleeping on the couch, but now that she had it, it just didn't feel right.

Bulma had done exactly as Vegeta had told her. As soon as he left, the only thing that would settle her anxiety was preparing for the possible trip. She'd thrown together countless supplies, which included items for the saiyan in case he really catch up to her. Non-perishable food, stacks of clothes (including the sets that had been made for Vegeta), items to fix up the gravity room in case they needed it, toolkits, a work laptop and miscellaneous materials that could be used in case she needed to design something new during her time away. She'd prepared everything she could think of, fearing the absolute worse and not knowing when she'd be able to return home.

And, as the sun began to lower in the sky, so did Bulma's heart in her chest. It was starting to become clear that Vegeta wouldn't be returning, just like he'd predicted, and she knew exactly what that meant. She would need to resume the search for the dragonballs, and she'd be doing it alone. With how grim things had sounded just before he'd left her in the garage, Bulma could only fear that he might be dead. There was no reason to assume Vegeta was still alive, not after what he'd told her. Yet she just couldn't bring herself to leave his items behind, so she had stowed them in the capsule house before taking off in her jet.

She'd tried to call Krillin to ask him to join her, but she couldn't get in contact with him. The same went for Yamcha, who normally would have been eager to receive any type of phone call from her. Bulma had to go on this trip with absolutely nobody by her side, and it wasn't an easy thing for her to do.

The farewell from her parents had been surreal. They had refused to join her for her quest. The Bluehead, not even knowing what was laying ahead or what would happen while she was away, had been incredibly conflicted. Would it be safer for her parents to stay, or go? If the person who was after Vegeta had truly shown up on Earth, would he even know anything about her? He might be coming after her as soon as he finished with the saiyan!

… Yet he might not be seeking her or her family out at all - it was possible that he only wanted Vegeta, and him alone.

… _But he had destroyed an entire planet!_

What if, after he'd successfully completed his goals, that monster did the same to Earth?

The Bluehead didn't feel safe at all, now laying in her fluffy bed and staring at the moonlit window. She was still exhausted from the sleepless 12 days she had spent working on the gravity room, but the dreadful anxiety telling her that any breath she took might be her last had been keeping her wide awake. Her back felt vulnerable, as if someone might sneak up behind her at any second. And yet she couldn't peel her eyes away from the window, terrified that at any possible moment it might light up with a blinding flash just before an explosion stole her last breath - much like a nuclear blast probably would...

"Kami," She whispered, pulling the covers up to her ears and peeking out from underneath them. "I can't believe he may not be alive..." It was amazing how she could feel so hypersensitive from the anxiety, yet so incredibly numb at the same time... _Was Vegeta really dead?_

Something made her tighten her grasp on the blanket. She thought she'd just heard a thud coming from inside the house. She bit her lip, hoping that it must be her paranoia playing tricks on her. Listening for any sign of activity, Bulma waited to see if any other noises would be made. But only silence rippled through the halls, and after nearly a minute of holding her breath the Bluehead sighed.

' _I need to just go to sleep.'_ She thought, still unable to take her eyes off the window in front of her. _'I'm just getting nervous because it's so late...'_

But there it was again! Another thud was heard, this time even louder. Bulma sat upright, throwing the blankets off her body as her breath caught in her throat. This time she just _knew_ it was real!

"Oh god. Oh _god_." She panted, looking to the bedroom door with wide eyes. What could it be – _who_ could it be? This moment only seemed to magnify Vegeta's painful absence. Oh, how she wished he was here! She hadn't even been terrified at the aspect of intruders during their time together! He'd easily be able to take care of anyone that decided to impose on her at night... She wouldn't have to be so afraid if Vegeta was nearby!

She scurried out of bed, feeling around in the darkness for the bag of capsules she'd left on the floor. After finding the one that held her clunky crossbow, she tip-toed into the dark living room with her weapon balanced on her shoulder. It was heavy, and she could only shoot once before having to reload, but her crossbow was an intimidating sight and would no doubt produce painful wounds.

Another thud could be heard at the door. Someone was wriggling the doorknob, obviously trying to get in. Bulma kneeled behind the couch and stared at the house's entrance, readying herself to fire as soon as the door swung open.

And, as the Bluehead watched, it finally did. A loud crackling sound began to ring as the door was ripped from its hinges. Bulma's mouth dropped open and she readied her finger on the trigger of the crossbow. Whoever was breaking in was _strong_ , no doubt. It really might be the one who had come after Vegeta! He must have found out about her!

' _I don't stand a chance!'_ She thought, her mouth going dry as her knuckles began to shake. _'Come on, Bulma… get it together… aim for the head… at least give him some pain…'_

With one last rip the door flew back, and in its place stood the familiar silhouette of a sharp flame of hair. "Oh my god!" Bulma screamed in horror, but it was too late. Her finger had already locked in on the trigger, and there was now an arrow flying straight for the saiyan prince. Perhaps it was a good thing that her hand had been trembling, for her aim had been off and he was struck in the left shoulder instead of the head.

She heard him groan loudly, and then he slid back into the door frame. Bulma threw the crossbow down and jumped to turn on the light, moving so frantically that she nearly tripped three times. "Oh – oh no! Vegeta!"

A line of blood was smeared on the doorframe from where he slid to the floor. He was sitting now, his eyes locked shut as he panted. His armor had been shattered, half of his torso open and exposed. His chin and neck were blanketed with dry blood, and there a line of red curling from his ear down to his jaw. In his lap was a limp arm, white bone sticking out in two different places. He groaned again, reaching up with his good hand and grabbing at the arrow that was protruding from his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry!" Bulma breathed, choking back tears from the sight of him. She turned and made for the bedroom. "Let me get something! Oh jeez… oh _jeez…"_

"Wait…" Vegeta grunted, panting deeply as his grip tightened around the arrow. With a breathless croak he pulled it out before flinging the bloody tool across the room with a loud clang. Blood was now freely oozing from his shoulder, trailing down his torso, and splattering onto his broken arm.

The Bluehead came running back with a duffel bag in tow, throwing it down beside him. She frantically began to dig through it, unable to even breathe as she searched over its contents.

"Bulma…" He gasped, trying to straighten his posture. His voice was ragged, and he had to take deep breaths with every few words he said. "I have mortal wounds… I didn't know if I would even make it to you."

"Ssh. Hold on." She replied, the tears in her eyes blurring her vision as she fished through the bag.

"I need you to know. I was thinking about what you said to me before I left…" He was panting as he spoke. The saiyan had used up most of his strength just by flying to her, but he'd be damned if he died now without first telling her what he wanted to share.

"It's going to be alright, just hang on, okay? Kami, Veggie… I'm so sorry I shot you… I'm _so sorry…_ "

"I'm glad you did…" He laughed, though it came out as a cough. "I could have been Frieza. You did the right thing…"

He put a bloody hand on her thigh, trying to stop her from what she was doing. He wanted her to pay attention. But Bulma didn't seem to take notice, now reaching both arms into the bag as she sighed. Oh, _why_ did it seem that she only had trouble finding what she was looking for when the situation was dire?!

"Listen." He said. "I'm not someone you should be so accepting of. I've done terrible things, Woman."

"Please stop." She was sniffling now, shaking her head and trying to rid the tears from her eyes so she could see what she was doing better.

"You asked me before how someone could murder an entire planet full of civilians… You need to know that _I've_ done it. I've done it too many times to count, and I'd easily do it again if the situation rose."

Bulma bit her lip. She picked up the duffel bag and gave it a firm shake out of frustration.

"I've never shown mercy. Not even when I was begged. I could have spared so many lives, but instead I took pleasure in ending them. I've slaughtered entire species, murdering them all one-by-one…" His head dropped back, and he opened his eyes to look up at the ceiling. "That's what saiyans do, and it's what Frieza's army does… We destroy lives… We purge planets… And we do it without a second thought. We are the face and bones of absolute evil…"

"Frieza is the one who killed your people?" Bulma questioned breathlessly. She finally turned the bag over, emptying its contents on the floor.

"Yes…" He coughed. "And I have destroyed countless others. I need you to know the truth. I'm merciless and cold… Bulma…" He groaned. "I shouldn't have yelled at you earlier. I shouldn't have kissed you... I shouldn't have even taken you prisoner the way I did. You don't need to be involved in all this... This is my mess that I created, and it's mine alone."

"Please stop."

"I..." He gasped, putting a hand to his shoulder as he groaned in pain. "I just overheard you talking about those dragonballs, and... I… I _needed_ you... I thought this was my one chance to..."

"Shh..." Bulma was trembling as she audibly sobbed. " _Please._ You're suffering from major blood loss... Just don't speak anymore."

"You have to wish me back. I don't want you to trust me, or to even like me. But I need to take care of Frieza. I can't let him bring harm to-"

"Found it!" Bulma announced so shrilly that it nearly made Vegeta's ears ring. She grabbed a small pouch that she'd been searching desperately for, and she fiercely tore it open. She turned, holding something small in her hand for him. "Eat this."

Vegeta turned to face the Woman for the first time since he'd started with his confessions. She was looking at him with those wide _blue_ eyes of hers, holding something out towards his face. Between her fingers was what appeared to be a tiny bean. Pathetically small and green, she was offering it to him as if this would solve all their current problems. In a moment of death, she was gifting him with a single bean…?

The saiyan's eyes crinkled into a pained grin, and he began to laugh.

It came out a cough, and the more he laughed, the more he choked. This woman really had a way of amusing him, even in the most hopeless of moments.

"Hurry!" She breathed. "Eat it up quick!"

Vegeta pulled the bean from her hold and looked it over. Fresh blood was pooling from his lungs as he coughed, and it was now sputtering down his chin. "You're actually pretty cute." He wheezed, and Bulma couldn't tell whether or not this was meant to be an insult. "I am on death's door, and you offer me a single bean." He popped it in his grinning mouth then, taking his time with chewing. His chest was still quivering with the need to burst out in a fit of laughter at the irony of the situation, but he fought back the urge.

"You told me you've thought about what I said earlier, but obviously you didn't listen to any of it..." Bulma smiled softly, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I refuse to accept things at face value, and neither should you…"

He gulped then, the bean sliding down his esophagus and into his stomach. Even before it hit his digestive organ, the plant was already surging through his bloodstream. His muscles tightened as energy sparked through them. Vegeta gasped out loud as the bones protruding from his arm quickly slid back in, his skin tightening as his wounds clotted over.

It was so overwhelming that he jumped to his feet, trying not to scream from the shock of it all. His heart felt like it was going to fly from his chest, his mind racing and his head no longer heavy. Wide eyed and breathing with much more ease, Vegeta lifted his hands and looked down at them, his palms quivering as they jittered with newfound life. "What…"

"You aren't going to die tonight." Bulma sighed with relief, and now she was the one to fall back. Vegeta had been so consumed by laughter, which seemed to be making his condition worse, that the Bluehead had thought for a moment that he might call her ridiculous and throw the bean out the door. That, or she'd thought he would bleed out before he had the chance to even consume the plant. Thank goodness he had actually listened to her! He'd actually taken the bean!

"What was that you gave me?" He panted. His voice was no longer strained, and he once again speaking with ease. "I feel stronger than ever!"

"It's called a senzu bean." She replied. "I don't need to explain what it does, do I? We need to ration them from now on, I only have four left…"

"Amazing…" He shook. "Absolutely _amazing."_

_._

Half an hour later Bulma had finished scrubbing all of the blood away from the floor and wall. She'd given Vegeta a new set of clothes and had also changed out of her own, which had gotten dirty from where the saiyan had touched her.

"Well, of everything I brought with me, I didn't foresee needing a spare set of hinges." She sighed, standing in the open doorway and looking out into the darkness outside. "We'll have to cover this up for the night, and I'll find a supply shop tomorrow to make the repairs to the door."

"Let me do it." Vegeta said before retrieving the door from where it lay in the grass. He jammed it back into its opening, blocking off the house from the night outside. When he finished and turned around he saw that Bulma was already setting a pillow and blanket on the couch. "The bedroom is ready for you. The blanket might be a little messed up, but-"

"Don't worry about it." He interrupted. "I'll stay out here for the night."

The Bluehead paused in what she was doing so she could look up at him with a twisted face. "But..."

"Woman, have you ever had one of those beans before? I have more than enough energy, and I'll be up all night. I don't need the bed."

She bit her lip when he said this, clearly not having expected this exchange.

"This is your house." Vegeta sighed, walking over to the couch and taking a seat on it. "That is your room. Now go in there."

She raised an eyebrow, looking towards the room slowly before turning back to him. "This is kind of weird…"

"I don't want to repeat myself again." He groaned. "Look. Woman. I might have been half alive when I said it, but I meant everything. I shouldn't have done this to you. I'm not..." He screwed his eyebrows as he searched for the words he wanted to use. "Look, just consider yourself free. I no longer wish to regard you as someone I have taken captive. Leave tomorrow, if that's what you want, but... I don't think it would be in your best interest. I will explain in the morning. I just ask, if you do go, that you leave the dragon radar with me... This is your house, and you will do as you will in it. I'll stay on the couch."

Bulma's mouth dropped open at this, but still no words came out. She looked utterly surprised, turning to look towards the room once more. "You're crazy if you expect me to just be able to go to sleep after everything that just happened!"

"Just _try._ " Vegeta replied. "I'll be out here, and if anything tries to come in through that broken door I'll take care of them. Now get to bed."

The Bluehead raised an incredulous eyebrow as she looked him over, and for a moment the saiyan thought she was going to yell something familiar about how he couldn't tell her what to do. But instead she sighed, finally turning and walking out of the living room.

Seeing that she was finally gone allowed the saiyan to exhale a breath of relief, the events of the day playing over in his mind at an irritating speed. "It isn't as if I ever had control over her in the first place." The saiyan muttered, thinking back on all the moments Bulma had given him attitude and lip during their time together. He dropped his head back and took in another deep breath, shaking his head as if this would rid him of his haunting thoughts.

He couldn't believe what had happened today. He'd initially worried about all of the consequences that would come to Bulma if Frieza or one of his men had learned about her. But now the saiyan couldn't wrap his brain around what had ended up happening instead - those two kids had beaten him to a bloody mess, and then left him when they thought he was dead. He just couldn't fathom how brutally worthless he felt when he'd managed to pick his heavy body up and start flying towards the direction where he felt the Bluehead's ki.

He'd have expected such a sensation after a battle with Frieza – but to be brought to such a low by a couple of _kids?_

"Maybe Bulma is on to something about not accepting things at face value…" Vegeta groaned, shaking his head again.

He was fairly certain that this was going to be one of the longest nights of his life…


	13. Raditz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the false alarm if you have already read this chapter, I am just reposting this.  
> It was brought to my attention that Chapter 13 was the same exact material as Chapter 3. It wasn't like that when I published this 8 days ago, and I'm not sure what happened or how long it was like that. Anyway, I am reposting Chapter 13 so anyone who had issues can see that it's fixed now. If you tried to read it before and weren't able to, you should hopefully be able to do that now.
> 
> Sorry for the mix up.

Less than ten minutes had passed before the bedroom door swung open and Bulma came tiptoeing out of her room. She stopped at the end of the hall, staring into the dimly lit den and at the man who was still sitting quietly on the couch.

Vegeta had his arms folded over his chest, as was typical of him. His face was so grim that it looked as if he had spent his time alone in deep thoughts of melancholy, and slowly he looked up from his lap at her. They locked eyes, as he always did with her, and his tormented expression only appeared to be even more pained to see it front such a clear angle.

"I just can't…" She said. Feeling a bit cold and vulnerable, Bulma hugged herself as she stepped deeper into the room. "I can't be alone right now. I'm just... so confused... and honestly, I'm _scared_..." She took a seat next to Vegeta, cradling her head in her hands as she did so. "I don't even know how safe we are. I can't stop thinking about everything that happened today... can we just talk about it? You said you're going to be up all night, anyway. I just can't get over seeing what Frieza did to you…"

Vegeta sighed. Up until this point whenever she had asked for information concerning his history, he'd always rejected the subject or had been selective about what he would tell her. But this time was different. It wasn't as if he wouldn't be up trapped with his own tormenting thoughts all night, anyway. Everything was quickly becoming so complicated and disturbing, and she was going to be greatly affected by it all no matter what they did. The saiyan was starting to feel that he owed a conversation to her.

He sighed, leaning forward so he could look down at his knees. "It wasn't Frieza who got me today."

" _What?_ But I thought-"

"I thought it was going to be him, too. But it wasn't. It was these two little hellions... These… These _damned_ teenagers. They were destroying everything in sight. I never would have expected something like that on this planet. Not from something like _them._ "

Bulma turned to him slowly, looking his muscular frame over as he spoke. Vegeta was resting his chin in a hand, staring straight ahead as he described those kids he'd encountered. "So..." She said softly. "Frieza really isn't on this planet, then."

"No. He shouldn't even start looking for me for another two and a half months. But those kids are hell-bent on destroying everything – the Earth might not even be around by then. I just couldn't even keep up with them. Those kids were annihilating a town when I caught up to them."

A chill was running down the Bluehead's spine as the unwanted image of a bloody Vegeta gasping on the floor replayed in her head. To think that something was capable of even doing that to him was absolutely horrific. But it hadn't been the ominous figure that he'd alluded to so many times? Instead it had been a couple of _kids?_ Bulma didn't want to press him so soon after everything that just happened, but she wished he would be more descriptive. She needed to know more.

"They wanted your friend, you know. They kept saying they wanted to see _Goku._ " The saiyan growled. "They didn't believe me when I said he was dead."

"I guess I'm not too surprised." Bulma sighed. The blanket she had placed on the couch was still there, and she pulled it up over her back as everything sank in. "He had a lot of enemies. But I don't remember him ever having conflict with a couple of kids..."

"That's the odd thing. They didn't seem like they even knew him. They thought _I_ was Goku until I pointed out that they were absolute idiots." Vegeta groaned. He brought his hand down from his chin, falling back into the couch and closing his eyes. "I don't think they're going to stop any time soon. I foresee those two taking this entire planet down, one city at a time. And they'll be able to do it rather quickly." He was speaking in a morose tone. The ego and sarcasm that Bulma had come to expect from him was now completely absent, and she could only imagine how low he must be feeling after what had occurred.

It was hard not to feel for him, it really was. Even after everything he'd confessed to her during what he thought were his dying breaths. Even after describing how brutal he'd been in his past… He was a broken man…

"You know your friend had a brother, right?" Vegeta cleared his throat, still not looking at the woman sitting a few centimeters away. "I worked directly with him for years."

"Wait, we're still talking about Goku?" Bulma pulled the blanket tighter around her frame, looking up so she could see Vegeta's face. He nodded, not returning the gaze. "Yeah. His name was Raditz. He was as stupid as a git, but he was damned good in combat."

She couldn't even speak. The more information she learned, the more questions formed in her mind. All the Bluehead could do was raise her eyebrows and wait for him to continue, wondering what a sibling of Goku might have looked like.

"The last I saw him, he was actually planning to come out here and find Kakarot. Perhaps it's good he failed – you'd be dead by now if he'd made it."

Bulma pulled her legs up on the couch so she could hug her knees. "Why?"

"Well, the reason Kakarot was sent to this planet was so he could carry out a mission. He was assigned to purge Earth – to obliterate all living species and prepare the planet for auction. But all signals were lost shortly after his landing and nobody ever heard of him again. Some assumed there must have been an overheating error which resulted in implosion once his transportation pod came into contact with the planet's atmosphere. Others assumed he was a traitor who had abandoned his cause. But this happened not too long before our own planet was overthrown and destroyed, so I didn't really care. I had other things to concern myself with. Raditz never got over it, though."

" _Auction?_ What? Why, I-… I…" Bulma was so startled by this new information that she was feeling defensive. "The only time Goku was ever violent with others was when they brought unnecessary harm to him or his friends!" She shot. It was hard to not feel offended by the way that Vegeta was nonchalantly describing failed plans at bringing her world to an end. Especially when he was saying that _Goku_ had been the one who was supposed to do it!

"Calculating time gets confusing when you've traveled through as many galaxies as I have." Vegeta continued, not taking any notice of the Bluehead's tone. "I think it must have been about three or four Earth years ago. We were stationed to perform a purge at the far end of an adjoining galaxy, and I granted Raditz permission to stray from our base so he could seek out his brother instead. Nappa, my second-in-command, was going to fulfil Raditz's duties with me during his time away. We orchestrated it that way so he could go without Frieza's knowledge, but something went wrong. He never made it to Earth. In fact, he never even reached this galaxy."

"I'm assuming he didn't just get lost on his way, did he?" Bulma was staring at her knees. Vegeta's life had been so drastically different from hers. It seemed that he never got a break from death or chaos, and his stories were becoming predictably morbid. The recurring theme in his life was that _everyone_ he knew died? She wondered how a single person could go through so much? If she'd had to encounter half of the things that he was describing, she didn't know _how_ she'd ever be able to cope with it. The Bluehead looked up at the saiyan again, admiring the strained lines on his forehead as he continued to glare straight ahead.

His reserved and hard persona was starting to make so much sense… No wonder he could be as cold as he was at times… And, if anything, the Bluehead thought he had turned out rather _pleasant_ for what he'd gone through. She'd think that at this point he shouldn't have any nice qualities at all, but he still had plenty…

"His transportation pod exploded just one light-year after departure. We saw the blast from where we were." When he said this Vegeta finally sighed, which was the first indication of any type of emotion since he'd started his story. "He was a good warrior, but his jealousy over Kakarot never evaded him. Kakarot outranked him in strength, which was why he was chosen to purge Earth in the first place. If Raditz had shown up to find that his brother was thriving in such an opposite life to what we were living under Frieza's reign, it would have driven him to insanity. He would have killed Kakarot and everyone on this world simply out of spite."

Bulma pulled the blanket even tighter around her body. Lack of sleep was starting to make her head feel heavy. She found herself far less offended than she had been a few moments earlier. None of this seemed real. It was just _too_ horrid! This felt as if Vegeta were reading to her from a fictional book! To add to the surreal undertones, the fact that none of what he was explaining had actually come to pass was oddly reassuring in its own right.

And, despite how terrible it all was, getting a deeper understanding of everything was comforting in an strange sense. As shocked as she was, many questions about Vegeta's past were being answered in that moment. "And you were okay with him doing that?" She asked softly. "You would have been fine with him taking out his rage on us all?"

"If Raditz wanted to travel to Earth to see what happened for himself, then he might as well be granted such a thing. I assumed Kakarot was dead. And I told Raditz that, on the off chance that he was alive, I _still_ didn't care. There is no Planet Vegeta anymore. There are hardly any remaining saiyans. Life under Frieza's command is deplorable at best. I had enough to deal with on my own. If one saiyan managed to escape such a fate and was living his days in a foreign civilization, what did it matter to me? It wasn't going to haunt me. But Raditz had a different opinion on the matter. He couldn't let it go."

"I guess I don't blame you for being so neutral about everything. You must be pretty de-sensitized at this point…" Bulma closed her eyes, listening to a gust of wind that was picking up outside the house. It was blowing the long grass of the pasture, resulting in a rustling sound that seemed to surround her in that moment. It made her feel even more glad that she was safely nestled inside the capsule house, under a warm blanket…

"I will say that, after discovering some of this planet's gems…" Vegeta continued, just as monotone as he'd been speaking this entire time. "Perhaps Raditz's fate wasn't such a bad thing… I might even be somewhat glad that he never made it to Earth."

"Gems?" Bulma turned to shoot another glance at Vegeta, and this time he was actually looking at her. His face was still as grim as it had been the last time she'd glanced at it, but there was now something else lulling in the back of his pupils. He gazed over her features silently, his dark eyes piercing her own. "Yes…" He muttered. "Had Raditz gotten his way, I never would have known _such a thing_ existed…"

He turned away from her then, resuming his thoughtful stare at the wall ahead of him. Bulma felt her cheeks reddening, knowing fully well what he had been hinting at with that metaphor.

Everything that had happened in the last 24 hours had been repeating itself in her mind mercilessly since she'd been sitting on that couch. But when he said this, it all suddenly paused. Instead, all she could think of was the times he had shown her softness in the midst of his pompous behavior. There had been plenty of times where he'd shown concern over her well-being, and as Bulma considered it all she found herself leaning closer to him so she could rest her head on his arm.

He stiffened when she did this, but he didn't move or ask her to retreat.

It seemed to be an appropriate time to change the subject, so Bulma said the first thing she could think of that might take Vegeta's mind off his brooding. "I find it interesting that you wrap your tail around your waist like a belt." A soft smile was now lining her lips. For the first time that night, as she lay against him, Bulma was starting to feel safe. "I didn't even realize you had a tail for quite a while… With how much of a disadvantage it can be if an enemy were to get their hands on it, wrapping it around yourself like that is actually pretty smart."

Completely surprised at Bulma's observation and knowledge of his anatomy, Vegeta slowly turned to look at the Woman that was leaning into his body. He eyed her with suspicious interest, as if she was going to do something startling at any given second.

"I actually didn't know you had one until the night you transformed into an ape… It took me that long." She continued.

"Then you know that it is the saiyan's tale that produces such a capability." Vegeta replied matter-of-factly, fighting back the urge to grin at this girl's wit.

"Well, yeah… But I was too busy trying to flee at the time to think about _that."_ The blanket had been starting to fall down her frame, and Bulma pulled it back up so it was covering her shoulders. "It was when we were laying together in the grass afterwards… and I woke up because it was wrapping around my waist… _That_ was when I knew you had a tail _…_ "

His breath caught in his throat.

_Did she just say what he thought she did?_

Vegeta couldn't help but to cringe as her words slapped into his ear. The saiyan had been so caught up in his own melancholic wallowing that he'd nearly forgotten about the awkward morning he'd shared with Bulma just a few weeks prior. She hadn't mentioned it once, but here it was now. The Bluehead had just confirmed what he had been trying to hope hadn't happened. She'd been awake for at least a part of that night, and apparently she also had memories that he couldn't recall.

Vegeta had worried that she might have been aware when he had pulled her into his chest - that she had been consciously taking note of his protective hold. But for her to say he had _held_ her with his _tail?_

He'd never done such a thing in his life! Not to anyone!

_What?!_

If Bulma hadn't been laying against his arm at that precise moment, Vegeta would have used it to slap his palm into face. _'Idiot!'_ He thought of himself. _'What **did** you do?!'_

 _Kami_ , his mind was suddenly drawn back from his embarrassment. He could now feel her hair rustling against him as she continued to relax against his side. Vegeta bit his lip, considering all this soft woman had said to him during the day, and he once again reluctantly remembered what might end up becoming of her fate.

It was a strangely overwhelming relief that she was now curled up in a blanket on that couch, and that the saiyan's initial concern about Frieza had been a false alarm. But, if the rest of the dragonballs weren't retrieved soon, that worry could very likely become a reality.

And he didn't want that for her.

If this had been a month earlier, Vegeta wouldn't have been able to care less about some seemingly random woman from the dirty end of the universe being tortured by Frieza and his men. But a lot had changed since then. This wasn't _just_ a random woman - this was the _Bluehead!_ He could imagine far too easily the type of turmoil she would face if such a thing were to happen to her, and he felt compelled to do everything in his power to prevent it.

It was that damned fondness he'd developed for her that caused him to feel so uneasy. And, as Vegeta recognized this, he felt another wave of grief wash over his body.

… How had he let himself grow so damned _fond?_

"It's dangerous for me to continue being near you. It will not end well." He finally grunted. "But you face certain death if you go back home. Those teenagers will no doubt obliterate your city… I just don't know when that will be."

When he got no response, the saiyan thought that Bulma was perhaps thinking everything over and weighing the circumstances in her mind. But when several minutes passed without even a nod, Vegeta tilted his face to get a look at her.

Her head was still resting against his arm like a heavy weight. Her eyes were gently closed, her lips slightly parted as her warm breath came out in soft wafts. Evidently, at some point while Vegeta had been sulking in his thoughts, this Woman had fallen asleep on him. How long had he been sitting with her in silence, anyway?

 _'This is the second time she's done this.'_ Vegeta thought at he carefully turned, lowering her onto the cushions of the couch as he rose to his feet.

As soon as her face came into contact with the pillow Vegeta had been sitting on she grabbed it, digging her fingertips into the rough threads and rolling onto her back. He studied her face as she relaxed back into the cushions. She had that same carefree expression on her features that he had gotten used to seeing when it had been routine to wake her up each morning.

With a sigh Vegeta bent down to lift her, and carried Bulma back to the bedroom. He was careful not to wake her when he set her on the bed and pulled the thick covers over her body. She seemed so delighted by this act that she grinned and quietly mumbled _"thanks"_ in her sleep, before turning her back to him and pulling the blanket up over her ears.

"Hm." Vegeta replied, turning on his heels and returning to the couch he had been sitting on so quietly. He kicked his legs on the seat, folding his arms uncomfortably over his chest as he laid back and closed his eyes. "At least one of us is resting easy during the eleventh hour..."

And then, out of habit, he reached out. Feeling for her aura, just as he had done every night for weeks, he found her so easily.

Blissfully nestled in that thick bed like she was, one wouldn't think she'd ever had a worry in the world with how secure she currently felt. Vegeta didn't think he'd ever tire of the sedation that washed over his body when he experienced the calm of her sleeping ki. Even on a night like this, after she had confessed that she was too afraid to be alone, the Bluehead was now so warm and soothing as she dreamt away her woes.

And, as Vegeta relished in this sensation, his own worries began to dissipate. He wasn't aware of it happening in the moment, for he was far too distracted by his amazement at her aura to pay it much mind. But, as real as anything else had been that day, he _felt_ it. So blissfully and numbingly _calm.._. washing over his limbs like the warm waters of a hot spring…

For that moment in time he wasn't hyperaware of the many horrendous possibilities that lay ahead for him and the delicate Bluehead. He wasn't ridden with shame at how close he had come to death, how pathetically vulnerable he'd acted in front of Bulma during what he thought were his dying braeths, or at how much he had _royally_ messed up her life. All he felt was the careless peace that was radiating from the Woman in the other room, and it was with this that he was able to painlessly drift into his own sleep…

.

"We have to change course. We need to steer away." Bulma said the next morning, an urgent glare in her eyes as she stared at the saiyan sitting across from her. The two were sitting at the table, rushing through their morning meal in a hurry to start their day.

Vegeta had slept surprisingly well, but morning came on him like an unwanted bee sting. As soon as he'd opened his eyes, it had all come flooding back. And he was sitting across from the perfectly alive Bulma Briefs, yet feeling as if he were staring into the face of a ghost.

"So that means you have decided you want to go back home." Vegeta replied, nodding his head as if he approved. Truth be told, he felt she was doomed with either decision she made, and it was making it harder for his breakfast to go down.

"No. I'm not going home. We need to keep searching for the dragonballs. Before time runs out." Bulma forced a large amount of food in her mouth, which made her look like a confused pufferfish before she managed to swallow it all down.

"Woman." Vegeta said calmly. He had already explained his concerns about her options to her that morning. "I have already told you. It isn't ideal to stay near me. If Frieza intercepts my plans and learns of you-"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm as good as dead if he finds out." Bulma shrugged, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "And I don't stand any better of a chance by going home. I'll just get slaughtered by those teenagers instead."

"Yes." The saiyan looked down so he could glare at his plate. "But Frieza will prolong your pain for as long as possible. He will relish in your agony. He will do all he can to destroy your will, and he'll terminate your life as soon as he grows bored of it. Those teenagers - if they catch you, they'll make it quick. It will be swift, and death may even come over you before you realize what is happening. You'd be suffering far less and maintain much more dignity dying by them than in the hands of Frieza." He was back to speaking in his monotone now, trying to block out any physical reaction that wanted to arise from describing such things.

"It's touching you care about how I die." Bulma said with partial sarcasm. Trying to lighten the mood, she forced a smile on her face - despite the morbid subject of the conversation. "But I can't just go home and wait for something to happen to me. We still have time. We can find those balls, but we need to hurry. If those kids are causing as much destruction as you say, then the dragonballs themselves are on borrowed time."

"What do you mean?" Vegeta's voice was _finally_ portraying some trace of emotion – she had taken him by surprise.

"There are two individuals on this planet that, should one of them die, the balls will become defunct. If we don't locate the last dragonball before one of them encounters those kids..."

"Dammit!" Vegeta growled, clapping his palm down on the table. "This whole situation keeps getting more and more distorted as time passes!"

"Which is why I need to stay with you... because I know more about how the dragonballs work." Bulma replied with a sly grin. "Look, this isn't just about _you_ and your need to fulfill a wish anymore. This is also about my planet and _my life."_ Vegeta looked up from the table to see the devious look on Bulma's face. Something about it had the side of his lips tightening into a grin of his own.

"There's more to this than just _you_." She continued. Then, because she couldn't resist, she said "God, Vegeta! Get over yourself!"

"Never." The saiyan said back, a full smirk on his face now. Truth be told, he had wanted her fate to be of her own decision. And, despite his valid worries about the tyrant that would be seeking him out, the saiyan was secretly glad that Bulma had made the choice to stay with him…

"We need to change route, because there is one ball in particular that we need to get as soon as possible." Bulma continued, basking in the glory that she had won this exchange of words. "The fact that those teenagers have a special interest in Goku has me especially concerned."

"Explain." Vegeta was leaning back into his chair.

"Because, if they find out where Goku lived, they'll obviously be going to his house to look for him. And I don't want them to do that."

"You're joking?!" Vegeta spat. "His house?! Wasn't that the first place we met?! There was a ball right there, and you didn't tell me!"

"Why _would_ I have told you, Vegeta!" Bulma hissed back. "You weren't exactly acting very nice at the time! _Of course_ I tried to lead you away!"

"Great." He groaned. She had a point. _Damn, she was smart!_ "Alright. Okay. So we will go fetch the dragonball from his home."

"Yeah." Bulma replied, pushing a strand of blue hair behind her ear. "And I want to get it _soon._ Even if those destructive teenagers don't know what the dragonball is capable of, I need to make sure its current owner is warned and is able to hide."

"Current owner? Great, don't tell me. He lived with someone? That means that Kakarot had a mate?"

"Yes – but uh, I'd rather refer to her as his _wife."_ She nodded. "I'm worried about her... But the person I'm _really_ worried about his son."


	14. Worth It

* * *

 

The two had been airborne for five hours when Vegeta sank down into the co-pilot's chair, grunting as he caught his breath.

"How was it?" Bulma asked, her eyes straight ahead as she steered the jet. Vegeta had spent the duration of the flight locked away in the gravity room, training at thirty-percent gravity as the battle bots chased him any way he went.

The saiyan was still winded as he buckled himself into the seat. This had been the first time in ages that he'd felt so challenged during a workout session, and he was in a state of endorphin-induced euphoria.

"Well?" Bulma cleared her throat, pulling a lever to start lowering the jet.

"It's adequate." Vegeta replied, wiping some sweat away from his forehead.

"That's all?"

"It's... not bad. It's good."

"Just good?"

"What do you want me to say, dammit? I enjoyed it."

"You enjoyed it, you say?" Bulma clicked her tongue at this. "So, would you say it was more than adequate, then?"

"Yes! It was MORE than adequate!" Vegeta folded his arms over his chest and let a puff of air out of his mouth. "There! Are you happy now?!"

"I am." Bulma smiled, her eyes still straight ahead as she pulled another lever.

"Insufferable woman." Vegeta grumbled irritably. The wheels had been let out below the plane, and the turbulence was growing louder as they reared towards the ground. It muffled his voice as he spoke.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Woman!"

.

It took only a few moments for Vegeta to be able to sense the presence within Kakarot's house after landing. He'd observed that there were other people at this home with his scouter back when he had first arrived on Earth, but he hadn't imagined that two of the individuals had been Kakarot's wife and son. It didn't make much sense, either. Neither of the power levels he was currently tracing were of any significance. Was he really to believe that one of those was the offspring of saiyan blood?

"I still can't believe you didn't tell me that Kakarot had a mate." Vegeta growled as he stepped out from the plane.

"Get over yourself!" Bulma said for the second time that day. "If you actually think I would have told you in the middle of everything that was going on at the time, you really must think I'm dumb!"

"Well, it would have been good to know that my species now has half-breeds!" Vegeta shot back.

"I could say the same for mine!" Bulma snapped, putting a hand on her hip. "Now enough with this tantrum and let me do the talking, okay?" She began to walk towards the small hut.

"You said something similar when we got our first dragonball." Vegeta replied from behind, moving to follow after her. "… And it was _**I**_ that ended up having to bail _you_ out. Remember?"

"Are you going to bring that up every time you get the chance?" Bulma rolled her eyes.

"Of course I will!" Vegeta growled. Nevertheless, he folded his arms over his chest and stood back when Bulma knocked on the small wooden door of the spherical hut. It only took a few seconds before the door swung open, and in its place stood a woman who looked like she was already holding back a yell even before greeting her guests.

Vegeta might have thought she had saiyan blood in her - if he hadn't already known better, of course. Her olive colored skin and her eyes fit the saiyan description. Even her jet black hair was strikingly similar to the locks that all saiyans carried with them. The only difference was that her hair was slicked back into a tight bun, whereas a saiyan's mane would have been too thick and ragged to accomplish such a thing.

Her form was far too petite to be a saiyan woman, as well. At least, from what Vegeta could remember of them. Not having even been of pre-pubescent age when his planet was destroyed, his memory of saiyan women were distant and diluted. He hadn't been subjected to more than the midwives that took care of him during his father's time away, and those wenches had always worn loose fitting gowns that disguised their figures. That being said, Vegeta was distinctly sure they had carried an impressive amount of muscle tone on them - a feature that nobody on Earth seemed to have.

"Can I help you, or are you just going to stare at me all day?!" Kakarot's widow suddenly spat, which pulled Vegeta out of his ponderings. She was now glaring at him, and he was sure he had been doing the same to her before she had spoken.

"Chi-Chi!" Bulma hissed. "What a way to greet someone!"

"Hmph!" Chi-Chi squeaked, stepping back from the doorway to let her guests in. "He was the one looking at me like I'm a piece of trash!"

"I doubt that." Bulma replied with tight lips, thinking _'he probably was...'_

"Anyway," The Bluehead said, stepping deeper into the small living room and taking a look around. "Where is Gohan?"

"He's in his room, doing homework..." Chi-Chi said, now speaking so calmly that one wouldn't have guessed she had just been snarling a moment ago. "Why?"

"Look." The Bluehead said. She was already feeling out of breath from the long-winded discussion that was about to take place, and she hadn't even started yet. "You aren't going to believe this... but just hear me out..."

It was then that Bulma explained to Chi-Chi about Vegeta's encounter with the two teenagers he had battled. She was thoughtful enough to know that it would be best for Vegeta's dignity if she didn't go into gross detail about exactly what the two kids had done to him. Though she refrained from being so descriptive about how injured he was after the encounter, Bulma still did all she could to stress at how strong the two teenagers truly were. Hinting that she wasn't sure if any of the Z-Fighters would be able to defeat them, the Bluehead urged Chi-Chi to consider the danger of the situation. "They want Goku, and if they find out where his house is, they'll come here looking for him!"

"I know exactly who you're talking about," Chi-Chi said. This was a statement that made Bulma nearly fall back in surprise. "You do?!"

"Of course I do! They've been talking about it all over the news! Those two took out all of Amenbo Island yesterday!"

Bulma looked to Vegeta, as if to confirm that this was the location he'd encountered them at. The glare on his face hardened when they locked eyes, and that was all she needed to know it was true. "So..." She turned back to Chi-Chi. "You… Well, then you know all about what they're capable of. So you understand why you need to leave here!"

"Leave?! No! There's no way I'm leaving!" Chi-Chi put her hands on her hips defensively.

"What?" For the second time that day, Bulma had to catch herself from falling back in shock. "What do you mean NO?!"

"This is my house, and I'm not going anywhere!"

"Then..." The Bluehead, wide-eyed and flabbergasted, wasn't even sure what to say. "Then, at least... You'll at least let me speak to Gohan-"

"Oh, no you don't!" Chi-Chi snarled. "I don't know what you think you came all the way out here to do, but I'm not letting you pull my son away from his schoolwork!"

"You aren't serious?!" Bulma snapped back. "Did you listen to a word I just said?! You guys are in _danger!"_

"You think I didn't hear you? What – you think I'm deaf? Of course I listened! And I'm not falling for it! We're staying right here, and Gohan is going to continue his studies so he can get into a good college someday!"

"What is a _college?"_ Vegeta scoffed from behind.

Both women turned to glare at him. "STAY OUT OF THIS!" They screamed in unison, before turning back on each other.

"Chi-Chi, I am trying to help you protect your son so he'll be around _to_ go to school someday!" Bulma fumed. As Vegeta watched, he found it amazing at how her head seemed to grow larger as she yelled at her dead friend's widow.

"No! You just want to take him away from me so you can force him to become one of those moronic fighters - just like Goku was!" Chi-Chi screamed back, her mouth growing larger in turn. "I won't allow it!"

"Did she just say fighters are stupid?" Vegeta cut in, stepping towards the hissing women. "Did she _actually_ just say that?"

"STAY OUT OF THIS!" Both females yelled again.

"And anyway!" Chi-Chi continued. "You think I'll let my son go off with YOU TWO? That oaf over there doesn't even KNOW what a college is! You'll ruin any progress he's made academically! What a joke!"

"I'll have you know that I graduated from high school when I was 15 years old!" Bulma screamed. Her hands were balled into fists at both sides, and her face was growing increasingly swollen as she yelled. "I have three university diplomas!"

"Right! Sure!" Chi-Chi waved her hand at them. "Whatever!"

" _ **HEY!**_ _"_

It was a booming voice so loud that both women collapsed on each other. A clumsy tangle of limbs, the two were fighting one another to be the first to get back up. Chi-Chi had both hands pressed against Bulma's cheek to use her for leverage, and the Bluehead was flailing her legs hysterically as she looked up to the source of the voice. Vegeta was standing before them, his chest puffed out as he scowled, his breaths growing shallow as he glared at the two girls.

"I am not an oaf!" He bellowed, pointing a twitching finger at Chi-Chi. "And you will not speak of any saiyan in that way, Woman! Kakarot may have been below me in rank, but there is no disgrace in being a warrior! Do you understand!"

"Wo-man?" Chi-Chi's palms dug deeper into Bulma's cheek as she used her for leverage to push herself up. "Who are you calling WOMAN?! I have a name, you know!"

"Who are you to be so daft?!" Vegeta barked back.

Bulma had finally gathered enough leverage to push herself off the ground, but Chi-Chi was so beside herself with rage that she kicked her foot down to prove a point. Unfortunately for the Bluehead, this meant that she received a firm stomp to the shoulder. With a groan she fell back down onto her stomach, her core bubbling with rage as her lungs fought for capacity to yell.

"Damn you!" Vegeta continued barking. "Pay attention to what you're doing! Get away from Bulma! You IDIOT!"

Chi-Chi's mouth dropped open, and she seemed to realize for the first time that she was standing on top of the Bluehead. She was about to step off, but Bulma made her move before she had the chance to. Within a second, pale fingers were wrapping around one of Chi-Chi's ankles, and the widow went flying into the wall with a scream as Bulma heaved. "Get off me!"

Vegeta's lip twitched as he watched Bulma pull herself to her feet and slap a dust stain off her shirt. He didn't know what exactly he was witnessing between these two Earth Women, but he had the strong opinion that Earthling fights were excruciating to listen to. Still, it was rather amusing to see the Bluehead give that bigmouthed banshee what had been coming to her...

"Mom?" A tired voice crowed from the back of the house, and everyone looked up to see a new figure entering the room. Vegeta raised an eyebrow, glaring up at the prepubescent boy that had stalked out from his bedroom and was now sheepishly trailing in from the hall. "Oh - Miss Bulma." He said with soft surprise before his eyes landed on his growling mother that was still laying against the wall. "Mom? Are you okay?"

"So!" Vegeta announced, not paying any regard to Chi-Chi's fallen state. "You're the offspring! Come here, boy."

Gohan had been bent over his mother so he could help her to her feet, and he turned slowly to glance at the stranger from over his shoulder. "Me?"

This child was so timid, and his facial expression was dripping with uncertainty. _'This is the one?'_ Vegeta thought, biting his lower lip.

Gohan might have been thinking something similar, for his face was soured as he straightened his posture. "Umm... Who are you?"

"This is Vegeta." Bulma said. She was still slightly out of breath from her altercation with Chi-Chi, and she wiped some sweat from her forehead before gesturing towards the silent saiyan that was standing on the other end of the room. "And Vegeta, this is Gohan… Goku's son."

"Mrm." The saiyan grumbled, continuing to look the boy up and down. Vegeta wasn't very surprised that Gohan was so close to passing as a full-blooded saiyan. With his mother's genes, the boy's features were hardly diluted at all. He even had the muscle tone to be a saiyan. The only telling sign that he wasn't full-blooded was his hair. His mane, thick and jet black, was hanging loosely from his scalp instead of flaming straight into the air. Just like his mother's.

"What were you guys fighting about?" Gohan turned to Chi-Chi, who was now standing and furiously patting her head with the palm of her hand.

"Nothing!" Chi-Chi squawked, though her voice came out too loud to be calm. "Bulma and her friend were just about to leave."

"But Mom-"

"I said there's nothing wrong! Those two are leaving RIGHT NOW! Aren't you guys!"

"You know what, Chi-Chi? What you decide for yourself if your own business." Bulma shot breathlessly. "But to risk your own son's life so _casually_ is another thing altogether. He has the right to know."

"HOW DARE YOU!" Chi-Chi screamed, but before Bulma had a chance to register what was happening, a muscular arm was tightly wrapping around her waist and pulling her back. A second later, in the exact spot that the Bluehead had just been standing in, a flurry of plates were now clattering into the wall. Bulma looked up to see that Vegeta had managed to foresee this. It had only taken him a second to register what Chi-Chi was doing, jump to the Bluehead's side, and pull her across the room before any harm could come to her. Bulma fought back a smug grin at the thought of it.

"What's going on?!" Gohan said, this time with more authority than before. "Mom, why are you so mad?! It's just Miss Bulma! Tell me!"

"These two want to take you away from your studies!" Chi-Chi snarled. "They're saying those - those _Island Killers_ we've seen on the news will be coming for us, but that's the worst excuse I've ever heard! It's all a bunch of lies!"

"You're a complete idiot!" Vegeta snapped back, a palm against Bulma's stomach as he pushed her behind his form. The Bluehead stood on the tips of her toes so she could peer over the saiyan's shoulder. "It isn't a lie, Gohan." She said. "Those teenagers that destroyed Amenbo Island said multiple times that they want Goku. They'll be coming here sooner or later, I just know they will!"

"This is stupid!" Vegeta barked, drowning out the noise of Chi-Chi's retaliatory remark. He glanced at Bulma with a scowl on his face. "If that idiot Woman is going to be so dense, then it's her own fault when she dies. There's no point in pushing the subject with her. But you!" He pointed a finger at Gohan, who was watching Vegeta with his mouth hanging open. "You will come. I have business to settle with you."

"NO!" Chi-Chi howled. "Gohan! Go back to your room! You aren't going anywhere!"

"Maybe we really should just leave…" Bulma whispered to Vegeta, though she sounded just as angry as he was. "I have a feeling that things are going to get _really_ bad if we stay..."

As Bulma said this the saiyan looked towards the boy. Vegeta growled when he realized that the child had already disappeared to some unknown location within the house.

"There's a city that's not too far from here. We'll go get supplies to fix the broken door, and we'll come back for the dragonball after Chi-Chi's had enough time to calm down." Bulma muttered in his ear.

 _Chi-Chi… being calm?_ Such a concept was impossible for Vegeta to imagine! He couldn't believe this woman could process the capability of ever being anything other than manic!

It was with this thought that Bulma guided the saiyan towards the door. Her arms were quivering as she walked, her mind anxiously fighting back the urge to scream something at Chi-Chi for being such an irrational bitch at a time like this.

"That's right, you get out!" Chi-Chi huffed triumphantly as they passed her by. "And _don't_ come back any time soon! You hear me?"

She was holding her breath so sternly to keep from yelling something back, and Bulma's face was nearly as blue as her hair was by the time they got outside. Finally a safe vicinity away from Chi-Chi, Bulma ran her fingers through her long hair and let out a loud exhale that ended in a short scream. She was feeling lightheaded, and the Bluehead was unsure if this was due to her extreme anger, or if it was a result of holding her breath for so long. But, as she stomped her feet and let out a string of obscenities, she slowly began to feel better.

Vegeta, who had seemed as if he would fly off the handle for a moment while they were still inside the house, had resorted to handling his rage simply by kicking a bush. His jaw locked and his arms folded over his chest, the saiyan left Bulma where she was as he briskly strolled towards the pink jet that was waiting for them.

The Bluehead trailed behind, still breathing heavily as her body settled from being so vexed. The saiyan had already disappeared inside the jet. And, just as she was reaching the door herself, she heard a soft voice calling her from behind. "Miss Bulma…"

Wide-eyed, she spun around to see Gohan running towards her from the rear end of the house. Perhaps he had snuck out from a back door, or maybe even crawled out from his bedroom window. Still irate and unsure of what to expect from this, she raised an eyebrow as the adolescent briskly raced towards her. He stopped only when he was an arm's length away, and he looked up at her as he caught his breath. "Is it really as bad as you say it is?" He finally said, his voice low so his mother wouldn't hear from inside the house.

"I wouldn't have come here to warn you guys if it wasn't." Bulma replied. "I'm worried…"

"Then I want you to take this." The words hadn't fully left his lips before he was thrusting an orange sphere into Bulma's unsuspecting hands. Her brows rose when she realized what he was giving her, and what exactly that meant. Tears suddenly filling her widened eyes, she looked back up to Gohan's face and nodded. "Just come with us." She breathed. "I don't care what your mother says. This is a lot more important than school – hell, I can teach you more than your mom ever could if it's that big of a deal. But you can't just stay here, you-"

"I can't leave my mom, Miss Bulma…" He interrupted, quickly looking towards his feet so he could break eye contact with the emotional lady in front of him.

"Do you even know what you're saying?" Bulma breathed. "You're still young. You couldn't possibly grasp the seriousness of what you're saying!"

Gohan's eyebrows screwed at this, and he looked back up at her. She saw it then – the deep gaze in his pupils. He really did understand the situation, and he even agreed with her. He knew. Yet he still shook his head, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. "I can't leave her…" He muttered. "If she doesn't want us to go, then I need to stay… My mom… I'm all she has…"

With that he turned on his heel and began to run back towards the house. Bulma watched him go, feeling as if she were going to have a panic attack. The Bluehead had been through quite a lot in the past few weeks, but she was certain that this had been the saddest thing she'd ever encountered. And yet, it was out of her control…

The door to the jet opened behind her, and Vegeta's irritated face appeared in its wake. He'd heard the ordeal from inside the plane. "I thought the boy was sneaking off to join us." He growled, watching as Gohan disappeared behind the house. "Where's he going?"

Bulma bit her lip. She turned, brushing past the saiyan roughly as she stormed into the plane. "Get in!" She barked, climbing into the cockpit and throwing herself in the seat. Vegeta rolled his eyes and pulled the door shut before settling into the copilot's chair. The Woman's reaction had been enough, and he didn't see the use in saying anything else.

Kakarot's son had been eliciting an aura even weaker than his mother's. It seemed that whatever genetic makeup he had received from his father had been, strength hadn't been included. Vegeta had been intrigued by the boy, but the child seemed stupid. He'd completely ignored all of the warnings Bulma had tried to give. He was obviously lacking something in the head, and if he wasn't even strong either then perhaps it wasn't much of a loss, after all…

…

A little over an hour later, Bulma was stepping out of a hardware store and back onto the street. She'd managed to find the replacement hinges needed to fix the broken capsule home door.

Vegeta had insisted that he would stand outside and keep watch over the building. He'd told her that he wasn't comfortable with the fact that the teenagers he'd encountered didn't have any discernible ki, and he didn't want to take any chances.

She looked up and down the street for him, and there he was. At the end of the block, glancing over the corner with marked concentration. He probably hadn't even realized she'd stepped outside yet. Bulma couldn't help but smile as she watched him, thinking of how endearing it was that the saiyan was being so protective.

But, as she began to make her way towards him, something stopped her in her tracks. A voice so familiar that it took her breath away, and not in a particularly good way. "Bulma."

She turned, eyes wide as she watched the source of the voice approach from the opposite end of the street.

He looked tired and out of breath, but sure as day it was Yamcha making his way for her. The Bluehead looked him over, the Z-Fighter dressed in loose lounge clothes as he went straight for her. He stopped right in front of her, his lips parted as he caught his breath. Eyes glossing across her features, Yamcha seemed to be in shock as he took her form in. Then, without speaking a word, he opened his arms. Pulling her into his chest, the Z-Fighter's muscles quivered as he hugged her as tightly as he could.

Bulma's eyes were still wide with shock, her figure stiff and not returning in the embrace she was receiving. "Yamcha?" She gasped, her voice muffled by his shoulder. The man holding her was her ex boyfriend – one that she had broken up with two years earlier. His touch felt repulsive, and she could have gone the rest of her life without encountering the odor of close contact with his skin again.

"I'm just so happy you're okay." He whispered, sounding as if he was stifling back tears. The sound of his voice so close to her ear was enough to make her skin curl, and she clenched her jaw. He was trailing a finger down her back now, resulting in disgusted goosebumps to form across Bulma's body. "I sensed your power level over here, but I thought it was too good to be true. I just – Just… Don't worry – you're coming home with me. I won't ever let you go agai-"

And that was all he was able to get out, for a moment later Bulma felt his arms suddenly disappear. She looked up to see Vegeta shoving the Z-Fighter back, a snarl eliciting from his throat. "So, the little piggy shows back up for round two?" He barked, offering Yamcha another shove.

"Ugh, it's you!" The Z-Fighter yelled back. He stepped back to avoid another one of Vegeta's shoves, looking back at the Bluehead with determination.

"I already spoke to Krillin." Bulma said shortly, feeling her cheeks redden. "I told him I don't want to go anywhere with you." She wasn't sure why, but in in that second she was more angry than anything else. This was not a happy moment of reuniting. That hadn't even been an embrace she'd asked for, nor would have consented to if she'd been asked. The truth was that their breakup had not been on good terms. Bulma had been so angry with Yamcha at the time that she'd refused to even answer his harassing phone calls for the first six months. And even then, she didn't have much to say to him. They had been spending more time than ever recently, and that was mainly because of Goku becoming so sick.

In fact, it had been weeks since she'd last seen Yamcha – she had hardly even thought of him since the day that Goku died. And, though this wasn't his first attempt at "rescuing" her from Vegeta, he hadn't even had the nerve to attempt it himself until now. Sure, he spoke high and mighty as if he were a knight in shining armor, but the man had initially sent Krillin after her to do the hard work of it all! After everything, he was just going to randomly ambush her on the street and act so damned heroic about it? At a time when she really could have gone without the unnecessary stress of it all?

He was even using the situation to try and get handsy with her! To try and re-spark a chemistry that had long been dead!

Vegeta seemed to be in a blind rage. She could see it by the way he held himself, the way he was leaping towards Yamcha. And, despite how angry she was, the last thing she wanted was to see her ex boyfriend getting mauled to death. And so she jumped, holding her arms out and trying to get between the two as the saiyan prepared for the impending beat down.

"Stop it!" She snapped, her cheeks stinging as she yelled. Oh, if she wasn't so acutely aware of Vegeta's superhuman strength, she would have appreciated the gesture. Hell, she was tempted to slap Yamcha herself with how he'd been rubbing her a moment earlier.

"Get away!" Vegeta yelled, rearing his teeth as he glared down at the Bluehead standing in front of him. "I'll kill him! The fool!"

"Don't touch him!" Bulma yelled back. "Just leave him alone!"

"Yeah, that's my girl!" Yamcha chimed in. "Come on, Bulma. Let's go. I'll take you right now. We can get away from this place and forget about it all. I bet you're so scared, babe. I bet you're so-"

"Yamcha, you need to get out of here!" The Bluehead turned on him now, offering the same cold glare she'd just been giving to Vegeta. "I already told Krillin that I don't want to go back. We're looking for the dragonballs, and you're wasting my time! What's wrong with you?!"

Yamcha looked shocked, and then hurt. He opened his mouth and closed it, smacking his lips together like a thoughtless fish as he considered how to respond. And, as he opened his mouth again to finally say something, he was pulled away. Vegeta had taken the moment to whirl around to the Z-Fighter's backside, and was now forcefully ripping him from Bulma's proximity.

With one hand Vegeta held Yamcha into the air, and with his other he readied his arm. The saiyan let go of him just as his fist collided with Yamcha's cheek, the Z-Fighter flying off into the distance with a low scream.

"Good riddance!" Bulma hissed. Despite her anger, as she watched Yamcha's figure fade into the distance she nearly felt bad for her ex boyfriend. She could imagine that he might be feeling the aftershock of that blow for days to come… "How annoying!" She huffed as Vegeta turned back towards her. She had been expecting the saiyan to make some snide comment about the situation, but he only glared at her instead. Without a word he began to march down the street. Bulma, still carrying her bag of supplies from the hardware store, went walking after him.

.

"Are you going to say anything?" Bulma huffed. She'd been trailing behind the saiyan for twenty minutes as they stalked out of the city, and Vegeta hadn't responded to anything she'd said during that time.

"There's nothing I have to say to you." He growled. It was then that he stopped abruptly so he could glower at her from over his shoulder. "We are at a good spot for that plane now."

She knew him well enough to understand when he was in a bad mood, and it was as clear as it could be that he was angry with her. Biting her lower lip, Bulma retrieved her beloved capsule and threw it. A moment later the pink jet had appeared in front of them, and Vegeta was already climbing inside without even a nod of acknowledgment.

"Hey!" The Bluehead snapped once she had climbed in after him.

"Hurry up and start this lackluster piece of machinery up!" Vegeta barked, throwing himself into the copilot's chair. "I want to get to the next dragonball before the day has completely ended."

"Hm!" Bulma took a seat in the pilot's chair. "Good luck with that one! Sunset is in two hours, and I need to fix the door to the house while the lighting is still good! We'll make some distance, but we won't be anywhere near another dragonball until tomorrow!"

"Dammit!" Vegeta spat. "Fine then! We will fly for an hour towards the next dragonball before you land and mend your cursed door. But we will land somewhere that is rural – not near any large cities or villages. We will be less likely to encounter those teenagers if we stay somewhere that is more isolated."

"What was it that you were saying last night and this morning?" Bulma shot as she angrily started up the jet's engine. "You told me that I am free to make my own decisions. So, stop telling me what to do!"

He grunted something in a language that the Bluehead had never heard before, but otherwise did not respond. Vegeta sat, stiff and looking as if he'd jump out the window at any second for the duration of the flight. And when they landed he disappeared outside before Bulma even had time to unbuckle herself from her seat.

Even when she appeared by his side to release the house from its capsule, Vegeta didn't speak a word. In fact, he stormed inside the house before the capsule's cloud had completely dissipated. He'd left the Bluehead alone as she examined the injured door and screwed it onto a new set of hinges. It took her thirty minutes to complete the task, and only when she was done did she step inside. Vegeta was sitting at the dining room table when she entered. He still had a bitter scowl on his lips as he stuffed his face with uncooked food, glaring at his plate on the table as he swallowed it all down.

He gave her a short glance before looking up to scowl at the wall.

This was when Bulma put a hand on her hip.

_That was it._

"What's your damned problem?" She hissed, launching for the table and slamming her palms down on it. "What's with your attitude? Why are you acting like this towards me!"

" _Why?"_ He scoffed.

"You're being such a jerk!" She snapped. "It's obvious you're mad at me about something, so just spit it out!"

"I already said that I have nothing to say to you." Vegeta growled. "If you want somebody to talk to so bad, perhaps you should go see what your friend _Yamcha_ is up to!"

"Yamcha?" Bulma replied, her face souring at the mention of her ex boyfriend's name.

"Feel free to go rub yourself against him like you were earlier, for all I care! Let's see how well he can protect you from those hellions that are wreaking havoc on your pathetic world."

"Vegeta, would you just stop this?" Bulma gagged, but she was no longer yelling. "I wasn't rubbing myself against him, the guy just grabbed me."

"Right! And he called you his girl." The saiyan folded his arms over his chest.

"He was stupid to do that." She replied, taking a seat across from Vegeta now. "We've been broken up for years. He was just being an idiot. I'm not anyone's girl, and he knows that. Okay?"

"Hm…" Vegeta muttered, not looking at all pleased. "You say you broke up with him. But that means he still had relations with you at some point. And you were just _so_ quick to come to his defense, weren't you? For a man you don't care about, you were _so_ fast to tell me to leave him alone."

"Oh, for the love of Kami…" Bulma was pinching the bridge of her nose now, doing all she could to keep from losing her temper. "Just because I didn't want you to kill him doesn't mean I want him in my pants! Look, this hasn't been a very good day for either of us. Could you please stop being childish just because you're jealous?"

"I am NOT JEALOUS!" Vegeta barked, throwing himself out of the chair. "You're a fool if you think I'd ever be jealous of either of you!"

"You might say you aren't jealous, but you sure are acting like it!" Bulma snapped back. "It's not my fault he showed up today, dammit!"

"I can't stand this." Vegeta growled. "Give me the capsule for that gravity room you made."

"Fine, then." Bulma said, digging into her pocket before retrieving the yellow capsule. "Go workout. Maybe you'll be calm enough to have a civil conversation when you're done!"

The saiyan grabbed the capsule from her in a flash, and then he was making his way for the front door so he could unsheathe the gravity room outside. "I am not jealous, Woman." He growled. "Accuse me of such a thing again, and I'll show you just how little I care."

He left her then, sitting alone in the kitchen to think about what all had just happened. She was frustrated at his behavior, overwhelmed at all that had occurred earlier, and even relieved that she was finally alone. Perhaps she would have been more upset with Vegeta for his hostility if she didn't already have enough on her mind as it was. But, as it turned out, there really was a lot that she needed to process. And so, with that, she kicked off her shoes and made her way to the restroom so she could run a bath.

.

The moon was high in the sky, and the crickets surrounding the house were chirping loudly by the time Vegeta walked back inside. It had been several hours that the saiyan had been blowing off steam, and yet he still felt just as angry as he had been before he'd started.

The living area was empty as he took in his bearings, and it didn't take much deduction to know that Bulma must have long ago retreated to sleep. That woman – the infuriating female that had accused him of something as pathetic as _jealousy_ – was slumbering away while Vegeta was lost in his own thoughts. He didn't understand how she could have been so matter-of-fact about the whole ordeal. How she could have had the nerve to even have to ask what had been the matter.

The case was rather cut and dry, wasn't it? That bastard had been _holding_ Bulma – _really_ holding her! So close that there could have only been one meaning behind it. So close that he had been stroking her back, a gesture that seemed far too natural for the saiyan's liking. It was clear that those two had been in such a position with one another plenty of times before, and yet she still had the audacity to play dumb about Vegeta's temper… And now she was sleeping the night away, as if she hadn't a care in the world…

… Or, at least, that's what the saiyan had been quick to assume. But when he sat down on the couch and reached out to feel for her dozing ki, what he felt was rather contrast to what he had come to expect.

A lump formed in his chest as a startling sense of dread overcame him, his mind locked on the Bluehead's aura. The sensation was growing deeper with each passing second, and the saiyan's eyes snapped open to understand what it meant. _This_ was how she was feeling? The Woman wasn't asleep at all!

Or, perhaps she was snoozing, and was in the middle of some type of nightmare?

Either way, he wasn't even aware of his actions when he stood up and began to walk towards the bedroom door. His senses, which were set on autopilot, didn't even pause long enough for Vegeta to lecture himself about seeking her out. If he'd been in his typical state of mind he would have stubbornly stayed put, allowing her to figure her own way out on how to handle the emotions she was experiencing. Especially after their heated exchange of words earlier that day – why should he care to check on her now?

But he wasn't feeling so stubborn in that moment, and all his body wanted to do was get a taste of that soft sensation that he would normally receive when he was locked in on her ki as she slept. With how hostile his chest felt in the aftermath of the day, he _required_ such a thing. It was all he desired at that late hour. He just needed to feel it yet again…

"What is it?" Bulma asked lazily when the door opened. She had been staring out the window as she lay in bed, so her back was turned to the saiyan as he slowly entered the room. She listened as his footsteps traced across the floor before stopping at her bedside. This was when the Bluehead finally turned to look up at Vegeta's darkened figure above her bed. "What?"

"I'm just in here to see if you've gone to bed." Vegeta replied, sounding irritable per usual.

"Oh." The Bluehead grinned, though she knew he couldn't see her reaction. That line he'd just used was so forced that she nearly laughed. "Well, do you have your answer?"

"Perhaps."

"Okay. Are you still mad?"

"Perhaps."

"Alright." She pulled the blanket so that it was sitting just below her chin, and Vegeta's figure did not retreat back into the darkness. He did not offer any other attempt at explanation of his actions, nor did he show any sign of leaving. It was as if he were waiting for something on her end, and the Bluehead found herself saying the first thing that came to mind. "I can't sleep."

It certainly wasn't a lie. And, even though it was quite an obvious statement, it seemed as if this was something he'd been wanting to hear. "Why is that?" He replied, his tone much less defensive than it had been a moment earlier.

"Would you like to sit down?" She scooted closer towards the window, giving him enough room to take her up on her offer. And he did, the mattress sinking slightly as he took a seat just beside her. He was posture was quite stiff, his back reclined against the headboard with his arms folded across his chest. Bulma turned towards him, making out more of his features now that he was so close so her. "How do you do it, Vegeta?"

"Do what?"

"Everything you described to me the other night… How do you get to sleep after going through so much? I feel like I'll never be able to rest again."

"Is that all?" He muttered, his back sinking a little deeper into the headboard as he spoke. "Just don't think about it, Woman. Isn't it obvious?"

"But I _can't_." The Bluehead replied, and her voice cut off into a choke at this. "You know, I tried to call my parents tonight. After you stormed off. I tried to get them to come with us, and they acted just the same way that Chi-Chi did."

"They yelled at you and started throwing plates?"

"No!" She reached out to offer the saiyan's rib a jab. In the midst of how crazy the day had been, this guy still had a way of making her laugh about it. "I meant that they acted as if it wasn't a big deal. They just gave me some lame excuse about how they couldn't afford to leave because Dad's in the middle of a big project for work. As if _that's_ more crucial than protecting their own lives. I just don't get it! Maybe I'm not being clear enough. It's as if they don't understand."

"I would have listened to you." Vegeta muttered. "You were straight forward and direct when you were talking to Kakarot's wife. If they don't understand what ' _you're going to die if you don't leave'_ means, then it seems that the problem would lie with them."

Bulma let out a slow, long sigh at this. "That just doesn't make me feel any better…" She turned her back to him so she could look out the window again as she bit her lip. "I just can't live with this. I feel like I need to do more, you know? It's like I'm going crazy. There are so many things that can happen, and nobody will listen to me no matter what I say. But I can't simply accept the fact that they want to just wait around to die! I need to do more!"

"You've done enough. If they want to be foolish enough to ignore a clear warning, then that is their own fault."

Bulma closed her eyes and shook her head. Vegeta made everything sound so logical and fair. He had a point, but that still didn't make her feel any less anxious about the terrifying possibilities that were forming in her mind. She took a deep breath, trying to keep from growing too emotional, and she rolled onto her back so she was gazing up towards the ceiling. "Vegeta?"

"Yes?"

"Could you tell me something else about your past? I want to know what it was like living on Frieza's ship."

Now it was the saiyan's turn to sigh beside her, but he didn't shoot her down. Instead he found a more relaxed position on the bed, and he began to speak. It was a story that Bulma found to be incredibly intriguing, yet it sounded too farfetched to feel real. It included many different aspects that might have been typical for some old-time fairy tale that her mother might have told her when she was ages younger. Vegeta spoke of Frieza, describing him as some ugly vermin that was so bent up at birth that his face never regained a natural shape. Vegeta detailed his henchmen, a group of _'idiot men that lacked just as much in mental capacity as they did the ability to chew their own food without Frieza licking it up for them first.'_

Vegeta explained that Frieza's ship had been made up of many different stories, which included cell-like rooms that warriors like himself were given as quarters. "If I had been a member of the Ginyu Force I might have had more luxurious quarters. Frieza didn't deem me a high enough rank to be one of those puppets, but I suspect it had more to do with the fact that I could actually think for myself than it did with my strength."

Kami, just listening to this surreal tale was enough to make the Bluehead forget about how messy everything in her life had become. In that moment, as the man sitting beside her explained so many things that she could only begin to imagine before he moved on to something else, all of her worries were fading. It took all of her curious concentration to keep up with what Vegeta was explaining, and she was too mesmerized to be distracted by any of the thoughts that had been earlier nagging her mind.

The saiyan could feel it, too. Slowly but truly, that feeling of impending doom that had been radiating in her aura was fading into something more pleasant. Vegeta was surprised that his own words seemed to be doing it to her, and that was enough to motivate him to keep going. He told her every boring aspect to the way of life under Frieza's reign, and he was surprised that such minute details seemed to be pleasing to the Bluehaired woman laying beside him.

Growing more calm himself as an effect of her aura, the saiyan sat with her for so long that he had lost track of time. But when he finally stopped speaking and looked down to see Bulma's dark silhouette curled into the blanket as she dozed, he found that he really didn't mind the hours of sleep he'd just sacrificed. In the dead of the night, as Vegeta compared how serene she felt now to how dreadful her ki had been before he'd gone in to see her, the saiyan grinned.

He stood to make his way back for the den, listening to her soft breaths as he retreated from the room. Vegeta still wasn't sure how such mundane details could have effected Bulma in such a way, but he couldn't help but feel that the time invested might have been worth it.

The saiyan prince himself may not have fully realized it yet, but deep inside he knew what was to occur each night shared under the same roof as that Bluehead. He'd sit with her every night until she fell asleep, if that was what it took for her to relax about the fate of her planet. He'd give up hours of his own rest just to speak to her about whatever she wanted, and he'd do it without giving things much thought.

For, in Vegeta's mind, as he relaxed into the couch and found refuge in Bulma's own blissful aura, it was all worth it.


	15. Wind-Chill

"We won't get any progress made with the dragonballs if we keep having to make detours."

It was sunrise, and Bulma had been the one to wake Vegeta up for a change. Consciousness had come to her in the most dreadful way, all of the anxiety from the night before hitting her at full force. The "fight or flight" mechanism instilled in her core was spiraling like mad, leaving her in a mixed state of feeling both helpless to circumstance and that she had the responsibility of the world on her shoulders. The Bluehead had done the only thing she could think to do in that moment, and her way of handling these emotions was by shaking Vegeta awake and insisting that they needed to go pay Chi-Chi a second visit as quickly as possible.

"That child already gave us his dragonball, and they made it clear that they don't care what you say." Vegeta grunted irritably. "It would be better use of our time to just resume our search before anything happens."

"I have a terrible feeling, though." Bulma replied. "We have to go back and try again. Something awful is going to happen to them at any minute, I just know it."

"And then what?" Vegeta stood from the couch and began to make his way towards the bathroom. "So, you say we should fly all the way out there? And if something happens while we are there? When that lady is throwing plates at you again? What do you think will become of you if those teenagers show up while you're having another argument with Kakarot's mate?"

He had a point. A dreadfully good one. Bulma bit her lip, unable to think of a comeback that would be convincing enough for her case.

"They had their chance, and a joke was made out of it." The saiyan continued. "You aren't going to risk finding yourself in harm's way simply because that Woman was being difficult yesterday."

"But I can't-"

Vegeta had stopped in the doorway to the bathroom before turning towards the Bluehead, shooting her a no-nonsense scowl. "Do not tell me that you can't sit around without trying, Bulma. You did try yesterday. You tried with Kakarot's family, and you tried with your own. They all ignored you, and now we are going to move on. Do you understand?"

"You're being really heartless." She shot back. "I don't get how _you_ can be so casual about everything. If we know something terrible is going to happen, then why shouldn't we do all we can to prevent it?"

"Perhaps you should consider that I am avoiding an even worse tragedy by telling you not to go back to that house." Vegeta scoffed. And, with that, he disappeared into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

And that was simply _that_ , with nothing else to be said. Bulma had to really concentrate in order to even get a determination on how to feel about Vegeta's strict proclamation. She was tempted to be angry at him - to stubbornly insist that he wasn't at liberty to tell her what she could and couldn't do. She even considered taking off while he was still bathing, for him to only find out she was gone once he finished and walked back into the living room.

But none of that sat right for her. His reasoning for not wanting to go back was stubborn, yet he'd said it was for _her._ How could she hold that against him? How could she yell at him when he was trying to protect them both, and he even made such logical points with what he said?

Instead of using her time alone to plan an argument, the Bluehead decided to swallow down her own pride. This didn't help with the quivering anxiety that had her wanting to both throw something in the air _and_ pass out, so she chose to distract herself by putting together a quick breakfast for the both of them. By the time Vegeta emerged from the restroom, clean and refreshed after his hot shower, Bulma had managed to calm herself down from borderline hysteria.

She watched him pensively as he eyed his plate from across the room. Without speaking a word, he trailed over to the table and took a seat. He immediately began to feast as if he'd been starved for days, not showing any sign that he even had their earlier conversation on his mind.

And that was simply that.

Without another exchange about whether or not she should continue trying to convince everyone to leave before the teenagers got them, Vegeta and Bulma finished their breakfast in silence. Then, after a quick phone call to wish her parents well, they packed up for the day and set off in the bright pink jet.

.

Two days later, Gohan was sitting in his room and staring at the textbook in front of him. Math was a subject that he typically excelled at, but he hadn't been doing very well in any of his classes lately.

It had really started back when his father got sick. When Goku fell ill, everyone's life seemed to be put on hold. Nobody wanted to go a minute without being in Goku's company, and that included his closest friends. The small hut that the family of three were hardly able to live in comfort as it was had become even more cramped. All sorts of guests came and went to speak their peace to Goku in case the conversation was also a "goodbye". But the three individuals that did not leave until the very end had been Miss Bulma, Mr. Krillin, and Mr. Yamcha.

Gohan's mother had always been nice to those three, though it was more of a begrudging tolerance than it was a genuine pleasantry. The adolescent had heard the things his mother had griped about out loud when she thought she was alone. He'd heard her grievances with all of his father's friends.

The time during which Goku was sick had been a phase where everyone's routine had completely dissipated. Gohan didn't so much as even open a textbook while his father was bedridden, and Chi-Chi had been so beside herself with worry for her ailed husband that she didn't seem to notice.

And when Goku finally passed, Miss Bulma, Mr. Krillin, and Mr. Yamcha made their exit. However, this didn't necessarily mean that things were to simply go back to normal. It had been hard for Gohan to get back in the swing of things after his father died, but after several weeks he had more or less been making due with the emotions swirling through his mind. His efficiency in school was nowhere near as productive as it had been before tragedy struck the Son family, but with time it seemed to be on its way back up.

At least, that was how things _had_ been going. These last two days, though, had been a completely different story.

How _could_ he focus on school when Miss Bulma's ominous warning had been so terrifyingly real? There was no reason to doubt anything she'd said, and it felt completely mad to just go on as if nothing had happened.

Chi-Chi may have shot Miss Bulma down out of spite, but Gohan didn't have any of the harbored emotions that his mother did. He knew his Mom well enough to understand that she resented Goku's friends for how much he seemed to prioritize his time with them. Gohan could distinctly remember that, throughout his childhood, it had been a grief of hers. Chi-Chi had always indignantly complained when Goku would disappear for days - sometimes even weeks - to train or do some other miscellaneous task with his friends.

There had been several times that Goku had tried to take Gohan along, but Chi-Chi had never allowed it. Not that it stopped him – there were times that Goku had snuck his son out of the house when Chi-Chi had been distracted by something. When those instances occurred, her reaction was so strong that she nearly became violent with her husband just to get her point across. Her standing was that Gohan needed to focus on school so that he could provide for a family of his own someday. And, with how intensely Goku took his "training" and "sparring", Chi-Chi seemed to worry that this was genetic. Perhaps just one small taste of Goku's physical habits would derail all of her plans for her only son.

Now sat Gohan, staring blankly at the workbook in front of him as he listened to his mother cooking something on the other end of the hut. He hadn't been able to interpret any of his schoolwork at all since the visit from Miss Bulma. He hadn't even been able to fall asleep at night.

With a sigh he pushed himself back from his desk. And he decided to do something he'd been dreading for more than 48 hours.

He was going to try to talk to his Mom.

.

Chi-Chi was rinsing out a pot so she could boil some carrots in it when Gohan came stepping into the kitchen. Even if he wasn't the only other person living in their small house, she would have known it was him just by his footsteps. She could recognize them from anywhere. He always took such careful steps, as if he worried his feet might break the tiles he walked on.

"Mom?"

She turned off the tap before turning to her son, who was looking at her shyly from the doorway. "What's the matter?"

"I've been thinking..." He began quietly. "Do you think we should maybe consider what Miss Bulma told us the other day?"

She sighed at this, dropping her pan into the sink. "I've been thinking about that too."

"You have?"

"Yes..." She sighed. "I shouldn't have yelled at her the way I did... Something about the way she showed up just set me off... I can't explain why..."

"It was kind of harsh." Gohan replied, letting out a breath of air that he had been holding in. "She was just trying to help us, I think... I don't know if we should have sent her away like that."

"Yeah, well... she came uninvited." Chi-Chi sounded somewhat defensive now, trying to somehow justify her behavior even though she knew it'd been unnecessary. "And seeing her just brought up a lot of memories. It didn't help that she showed up with _that man_. I mean – I just lost my husband, and she's going to come to my door and flaunt some new guy in front of me? It's all great for her to have a new lover at her side, but what about me? I just lost mine. My _husband_ is _dead!_ "

"I don't think she was-"

"He looked so similar to your father, too. It was as if they could have been cousins! What was up with that? It was like a slap in the face when I saw him. Why would she be so insensitive at a time like this?"

"I - "

"Oh, I just don't know what to do. I think we might should leave, but I don't want to go with her. Why couldn't it have been anyone other than _her?_ We've never really gotten along, you know… _All_ of your father's friends are such bad influences on you…"

"I don't get it." Gohan blinked. His mother was acting surprisingly remorseful, but he was still careful about what he said. It would be very easy to set her off if he spoke the wrong thing. So he chose not to even ask his mom about her hostility, and instead presented her with the opportunity to elaborate on her own.

She didn't.

"If Bulma decides to come back, maybe we should take her up on her offer?" The boy suggested.

"Maybe we should, dear." Chi-Chi sighed. "Maybe we should… But I don't think she'll be coming back any time soon… Would _you?"_

"Then maybe we should just leave on our own. We can go into the city for a few days, can't we?"

"No, honey, we can't do that either. Where will we find the money? It'll take us a full day to get to the city on foot, and then we won't even have the means to buy food or seek shelter once we get there."

Gohan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. His mother had recently trimmed it to a short cut, but it was always quick to grow. His locks would be back down to his shoulders in no time…

"Perhaps I should call her." Chi-Chi groaned. "Oh – I really don't _want_ to. I was the one to kick her out - I'll look like such an idiot if I give her a call and beg her to come back."

"She seemed really worried." Gohan replied. "Maybe she'll just be happy to hear from us."

Chi-Chi swallowed down a lump in her throat and turned towards the landline phone that was hanging on the kitchen wall. She began to make her way for it, but she noticed a shadow passing by the window above the sink. "Oh?" She said softly. "Someone's here… Well, let's both hope it's that girl we were just talking about."

_Someone was here?_

Gohan couldn't even force a smile at his mom's comment. He swallowed down a dry gulp. A pit had suddenly formed in his stomach. It felt like a large stone, preventing him from the ability to speak. He wasn't feeling nearly as hopeful as his mother about who it was at the door…

..

Locating the fifth dragonball had been proving to be more difficult than Vegeta and Bulma had predicted.

It wasn't just that they had flown to the other end of the planet. That had been more annoying than anything else, but such a task was easily done when they had the means to transportation. What had proven to be the difficult part had been the change of air.

Vegeta and Bulma had departed from an environment that was just as humid as it was hot. Such weather had motivated the Bluehead to utilizing a wardrobe that consisted primarily of cropped shorts and small shirts that would let her skin breathe and appreciate the warmth surrounding her. The heat of the season was something that Bulma had grown accustomed to, which lead to her doing something that she considered to be a _"rookie mistake"._

It wasn't until they grew closer to their destination that the Bluehead realized just how terrible she'd been at planning for the trip.

Ice crystals had formed on the edging of the plane's windows during the last few hours of the flight, indicating just how chilly it was becoming outside. Clad in only a thin pair of shorts and a spaghetti strapped shirt, Bulma was hugging herself to keep warm long before the plane had even landed. And she stood by the jet's door now, glancing through the window and at the icy terrain outside.

"I can't go out there like this." She breathed, teeth clattering violently as she furiously rubbed her hands up and down her arms. "I'll get hypothermia. Or frostbite. You know, I'll get both."

Vegeta was standing by her side, studying the snow that was flowing past the window. "It doesn't look that bad."

"Are you k-kidding?" The Bluehead said, but she knew the answer to her own question without having to receive an actual response. Homeostasis had now set in on her body, and her muscles were starting to shiver. Her voice was quivering as she spoke now, her teeth clattering together even when she wasn't speaking. She was having a hard time getting her tongue to work as well as she was used to. All her instincts wanted her to do at that moment was to curl up into a tight ball to try and retain any body heat she had left. "How can you not be b-bothered? You hardly have a-a-any more clothes on your skin than I do!"

"It's a bit irritating, but I'll survive."

" _How?"_ Her teeth chattered. "G-Goku used to get c-c-cold! I-"

"Kakarot must not have acclimated his body, then. I've been on too many planets to count, some of which were so far away from the nearest star that it never even saw the light of day. Do you think _that_ was warm? I will survive this."

"Jeez! Is there a-a-" Bulma shook her head, a violent chill running down her spine. "Is t-there _anything_ you aren't p-perfect at?!"

"Of course not." The saiyan replied, a smirk lining his lips. "Hm - It's good that you finally recognize my _perfection_. Just give me the dragon radar. I will go fetch the ball."

With a trembling arm, Bulma handed it to him. "Just d-don't take t-too long. We don't want the r-radar to freeze..."

"You feel like a shard of ice." The saiyan growled, his fingers grazing her palm as he took the device from her. "You weren't exaggerating about your body temperature."

Her body was trembling now more than ever, and her jaw was stubbornly clenched against her own will. At this point she didn't see the need to speak unless it was absolutely necessary, so Bulma simply nodded sheepishly at Vegeta's observation.

"Shall I get your something to keep you warm while I'm out? Surely there must be a furry animal around that I can skin for you." Vegeta suggested. "That might suffice to keep your body temperature above freezing."

That was one of the sweetest, most disgusting things that she had been offered in a very long time. The Bluehead restrained from making a face that exhibited her repulsion at the idea of bundling under a blanket made of raw animal skin and fur. Instead she smiled, shaking her head. "I'll b-b-be fine."

"You will not." The saiyan grunted. "You'll be dead by the time I return."

"No I won't!" Bulma snapped. "I'm going t-to… I'll run a h-ho-hot bath and s-soak."

"Hm." Vegeta turned back to look out the window once again. "Perhaps that will work. The house _does_ have a heating system. Let me see the capsule. I will escort you inside to make sure you don't freeze in the snow on your way."

How feeble did he think she was? She couldn't even run herself a bath on her own, now?

It was like her body was shutting down in order to preserve energy and stay warm. Had the Bluehead not been feeling so weak, she might have hissed something about her capability to take care of herself. But this wasn't the time for such a thing, so instead she retrieved the capsule from her bag and handed it to the saiyan - just as she had done with the dragon radar.

"Alright. Step back so you don't get hit by the wind." Vegeta commanded, and when Bulma had retreated into the cockpit he made his move. He threw open the door to the plane, snow and ice crystals wafting inside the vehicle as he did so. He threw the capsule out into the white land, waiting for the house to appear in place of the consequential cloud of smoke.

Then he turned for the Bluehead, who was eying him curiously from the pilot’s chair as he moved towards her...

... When Vegeta had used the term _"escort",_ Bulma had imagined that he would be walking by her side as she marched through the cold. She'd pictured him standing by in case she fell over or something on her way.

It had taken her by surprise, then, when Vegeta hoisted her into his arms in order to _carry_ her instead.

His own body acting as a shield against the wind, Vegeta did just that. Holding her so easily, as if she weighed no more than a turnip, the saiyan quickly flew them both towards the capsule house. They made it to the door and were inside in only two seconds, but Vegeta didn't set her down until he had carried her into the bathroom.

The central heating system of the house was set up so that it would automatically click on based on the temperature outside, and in each room there was already a pleasant warmth hissing in through the vents.

"There." Vegeta said, placing her on her feet in front of the bathtub. "Now there is no reason why you shouldn't stay alive while I am out."

The Bluehead didn't respond. The prospect of a steaming bath was suddenly as desirable as water might be to someone who had been lost in a dessert for three days. She immediately turned for the tub and switched on the faucet, the loud noise of the running tap echoing through the room.

"Alright." Vegeta grunted, stepping back towards the door. "I will be back."

The heat from the tub was radiating through the room, and Bulma was no longer shivering as badly as she had been before. She had already kicked off her shoes and was now grabbing at the hemline of her shirt. Her back was turned to the saiyan, and she paused just before she began to pull the material up. "Vegeta?"

"What?"

She glanced at him from over her shoulder. A smile was on her face as she watched him, excitement glowing in her eyes. "Thanks. What you just did for me just now was really wonderful."

_Oh, great!_

The saiyan scowled as if she had just said something foul. "All I did was carry you to the bathroom, Woman! Don't act as if I did anything upstanding."

"Well, not everyone would have cared enough to do that for me." She replied with a shrug.

"Whatever." The saiyan grumbled. He stepped further into the doorway, still eying her as he went. Bulma seemed to accept his departure, for she turned back towards the tub and excitedly continued to remove her clothing. Under her shirt she unhooked her bra before allowing it to drop to the floor.

She wasn't acting timid in the least, he noted. It was as if she assumed that he was already gone!

He wasn't though, and just before he turned away he received a view at her bare back when she ripped her shirt off. Her arms above her head as she pulled, he caught a glance of the side of a fleshy breast as it bounced back from being released from the confining material.

… _The way it seemed to swing back before she lowered her arms had been hypnotic_. Kami – Vegeta was surprised he even _had_ been able to turn away after seeing something as intoxicating as that.

The image played over in the saiyan's mind as he made his way back across the house, cursing himself for not leaving that bathroom sooner. Now he was going to be afflicted with yet another thing to add to his fascination with the Bluehead!

' _Dammit!'_ He thought as he stepped back into the blizzard outside. That _damned_ Woman and her _damned_ carelessness! He had seen her scantily clad in a bikini weeks earlier, during the night when he'd had that frustrating run in with the giant sea creature. That had done enough to it as it was. But time had passed. It had taken weeks, but he had willed the image to fade into something less distracting on his mind.

Yet here it was again, that overwhelming attraction that was hitting him again at full force. This time he wasn't so capable of pushing the thoughts away. _Now_ thingswere different – he was used to the idea of being so fond of her, even if he wasn't necessarily happy about having such feelings for her.

Part of him was even delighted at what he'd just seen. The same side of his mind that told him to keep her as content as possible was now ecstatic. _This time_ he wasn't going to be so able to forget about what he'd seen of her body, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to.

Not when her torso had been completely naked in front of him. Not when he couldn't stop thinking that, had he stuck around a few seconds longer, he might have gotten a sight of her lower half...

No, he couldn't just forget that she had been _undressing_ in front of him!

Not when it had been _her_...

Vegeta pulled the dragon radar out of his pocket and clicked it to life. He glared at the screen, trying to make sense of the flashing dot on it.

_How was he going to be able to concentrate on finding the ball when his mind was so overridden?_

.

A habit had been made out of not being able to fall asleep unless she'd been having a long conversation with Vegeta. Bulma didn't realize it at the time, but it had started the very night he had shown up as a bloody mess at the door. The comfort she felt when she had dozed off while speaking to him on the couch was something that resonated deeply within, and that had carried over to the following evening when he had soothed her to sleep once again in her bed.

The pattern hadn't ended there. In fact, it had only grown stronger. In the two days since, he had talked her to sleep each night. It had quickly become one of her favorite parts of the day, even though it had been less than a week since the routine had started. Bulma wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to go back to simply easing herself to sleep after all getting used to Vegeta being by her side. The thought of even trying just left her with the sensation that something would be missing from that scene.

The Bluehead had been in an unyielding state of anxiety ever since the encounter with Chi-Chi. Her mind couldn't determine who to worry about more, and she was stuck in a limbo of distress for both Goku's family and her own. These thoughts only got worse during moments when she was alone. When she was by herself and didn't have anything to distract her. It just didn't seem like a possibility to fall asleep like that. It was much easier to announce that she was ready for bed, and to ask Vegeta if he'd come speak to her.

Bulma hadn't been so sure if she would ever be capable of falling sleep on her own again. But as she sank into the steaming hot tub she realized that, under certain circumstances, she really _could._ Her body was _so_ relieved in that moment that she didn't even have to try. In the aftermath of being so numbingly cold there was none of the anxiety that had become so typical for her.

She was too distracted with thoughts of how sweet Vegeta could be to get anxious. And her body was simply too relieved at even being alive to care.

Bulma didn't know how long it had taken for her to drift out of consciousness, nor did she have any idea of how long she had slept for. But when she woke to the sound of a rustling at the entrance of the house, she realized it must have been well over an hour.

The bath water she sat in was now only lukewarm. Her hair had grown sweaty at some point, the blue locks that were loose from her ponytail now glued to the sides of her face.

Bulma knew by the sounds of the footsteps in the den that the person in the house was Vegeta. And when they stopped just outside the bathroom door, her assumption was quickly confirmed. "Are you still in there?" He called, sounding more irritable than she'd been expecting.

"Of course I am." She replied with a yawn.

"Well, make yourself presentable. I'm coming in."

She was still feeling lethargic from her nap. Also feeling sarcastic from the tone in Vegeta's voice, Bulma simply crossed her legs and slapped an arm over her bosom. "Okay." She called lazily, stifling another yawn. "You can come in."

The knob turned slowly, and the door clicked open with a small pop. The saiyan had a look of rage on his face as he stepped inside, holding the dragon radar in one hand as he went. His demeanor didn't last though, for when he saw the Bluehead at the other end of the bathroom he stopped in his tracks.

Looking as if he'd seen a spirit's apparition, some of the olive color faded from his cheeks. His eyes went from being bitterly furrowed, to wide and startled. " _What is this?"_ He hissed."I told you to make yourself presentable!"

"I _did."_ Bulma sighed groggily. "What do you need so bad that it can't wait?"

"I expected you to wrap a towel around yourself!" He croaked. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Bulma lazily bobbed her head down so she could look at her own body. Sure, she might have been naked, but she was doing a well enough job at covering all of her explicit parts. It wasn't anything he hadn't already seen before when she had been in her swimsuit a few weeks prior. The only thing missing was the actual _bikini._ "It's not like you can see anything, Vegeta. It's fine, I just didn't feel like getting out of the bath yet."

"What do you mean _it's fine?!"_ The saiyan snapped, though some of the ferocity was fading from his tone. He just couldn't rip his eyes off of her, and he had been _trying_ for several seconds now. "I can see plenty!"

"I already told you I'm not ready to get out yet." She replied carelessly. "Well, what did you want so bad that it couldn't wait, anyway?"

" _Huh?"_ The saiyan licked his lips dryly, now appearing to be even more caught off guard than he had been a moment earlier. He looked down at his hand to see the dragon radar he was holding, and he tightened his grip on it. "Oh - right. This damned thing is busted." It came out more as a question than the hostile announcement he had initially planned. Having completely forgotten about it a moment ago, the saiyan held the device up to eye it carefully. As if he might gain his composure in doing so. Kami, he was in a state of shock – wasn't he?! That was it – that _had_ to be why his mind was suddenly so useless!

"Is it really?" Bulma twisted in the bathtub so her torso was now against the edge of the tub. This didn't help matters, for now she was presenting a clear view of the curves of her hips and the side of her rear. She reached an arm out for the towel that was hanging from the nearby rack, but it was still too high for her to get a good grip. "I told you that might happen. It's probably just frozen. Hey, could you hand me that towel?"

Still feeling dumbfounded, Vegeta obediently stepped across the room until he was standing just above the Bluehead in the tub. He grabbed the fuzzy fabric and handed it to her stiffly, which she happily accepted.

The saiyan tried his damndest to keep from looking at her from this new point of view, _he really did._ But try as he might, he just couldn't stop himself from giving her a long side-eye. His pupils trailed down the skin of her body, taking as much as he could in. By the time he finally turned and made his way back out into the den he felt as if his lungs were going to explode.

He heard the water's trickles as she stood from the bath. He listened to the resulting splash as she shot a hand to the bottom of the tub to release the drain. _'What an idiot she is!'_ He thought, rubbing at his temples and trying to free his mind of the memory of what he'd just seen. It had been bad enough that he'd hardly managed to keep a straight head when he'd been looking for the dragonball just now. Even if the radar hadn't stopped working on him, the saiyan hadn't been doing very well before then.

But _this?!_

No longer was he infuriated with the fact that he'd just wasted nearly two hours on a failed attempt at searching for the ball. No longer was he so eager to go on a verbal rant to the only person who would listen and offer some witty response. Now all he could think of was the Woman he had grown rather fond of that was currently in the other room. All he could concentrate on was the fact that he had just seen more of her than he had ever imagined he would. And she had allowed it.

 _She_ had _caused_ it!

He thought back on the vow he had made to himself years earlier when he had still been a teenager. The disgust he had felt with himself after indulging in an unworthy body that had eagerly presented itself to him. The repulsion, the shame. The strong realization that, if he couldn't have another saiyan's flesh, then he much preferred having nothing at all.

And, for the first time since making such a vow, Vegeta was quickly realizing that he wasn't so sure if this was a promise he would be able to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that one! More to come soon!


	16. No Regrets

When Bulma came into the den, a towel wrapped around her body in the form of a dress, she was carrying the dragon radar in one hand. "It's just as I thought." She said, glaring down at its screen. "See, for anything, there is a tipping point. It's well known that electronical devices can overheat. Well, they can suffer from the opposite of that if they're exposed to temperatures that are cold enough."

She walked over to the table but didn't sit down. Instead she stood facing it, narrowing an eye as she clicked the button on the radar with no success. "The dragon radar might just warm up on its own, but I'd like to open it up and make sure there's no damages to the circuit."

The saiyan eyed her from where he stood by the couch, fighting back a groan to see that fuzzy towel laying on her curves. Now, _why_ did this seem to distract him even more than her naked figure in the bath did?! All he wanted to do was see that wretched piece of cloth being torn from her skin. "How long will it be out for?" He muttered through gritted teeth.

"Mm..." Bulma shrugged. "Well, it might be a few days if the circuit has damage. I have all the parts I'd need to fix it, but it's been a while since the last time I messed with this thing. It'll take me a bit to reacquaint myself with the design."

"We don't _have_ a few days..." Vegeta replied stiffly. Now he was stepping towards the Bluehead, who still had her back turned to him as she continued to inspect the radar. "We are here _right now_ , Woman... We can't keep suffering from these setbacks..."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it, is there?" She shrugged. "That's just our luck, isn't it?"

And that was the precise moment when her eyes widened. Frozen in place with her fingers clutching the radar, Bulma's breath caught in her throat as she felt a rough palm dragging across her shoulder.

It was just that – the calloused bottom of a hand, rough fingertips leading the trail. Vegeta was touching her, and this was so unlike him to do. The Bluehead could feel a warm breath of air hitting the back of her neck, she could smell the scent of his body as he stood so close.

It was amazing that such a simple gesture could have her stomach tightening so immediately with anticipation. His was hand moving across her shoulder now, and around to her chin. Bulma felt as the top of his chest began to ease down onto her back.

"We need to get something else out of the way first." Vegeta's husky voice commented, the muscles of his chest sinking even deeper into her skin. He was sliding his hand down the front of her neck now, only stopping when he reached the area just above her bosom.

There was no reason to question what that certain _something_ was. She didn't need any elaborating, and she wasn't appalled at the idea of it either. In fact, she was pleased with the way things were going. She wasn't going to complain! "That would push back the completion time. I thought you wanted this done as soon as possible." Bulma said with a smirk, placing one of her hands on his own.

"Screw it." He hissed in her ear.

"And I thought you said you shouldn't have kissed me." She replied as she placed the radar on the table with her free hand.

"And that was true." He set his lips on her neck, grazing her skin with his teeth. "I shouldn't have."

Bulma gasped, and her eyelids fluttered shut. Her grip on his hand tightened, and she leaned back into his chest. He was proceeding with a lot more self-assurance than she would have expected. If his stone demeanor wasn't enough to make her think he'd be a lot less eager in doing something like this, then the way he had reacted when he'd kissed her back in the garage was. But now he was acting with no hesitation at all... He was only working with desire, and it was certainly waking her up.

The Bluehead turned to face the saiyan, taking both of his hands and placing them on her hips. She raised a sly eyebrow. "So, you've changed your mind."

He was watching her with an expression that she didn't quite recognize. It was as if he were unworldly angry, yet amused at the same time. Stern, yet light hearted. His already dark eyes were exponentially deeper than she'd ever seen, and the side of his mouth raised into a crooked smirk. "Well," He growled, tightening his fingers around the curves of her hips. "You seemed to enjoy it last time."

"You're the one who showed remorse." She shot back. "Not me."

"So, you don't regret it." Vegeta hissed, his smirk widening. _"Good."_

That was when he put a hand to the back of her head and pulled her in. For the third time ever he kissed her, and there would be no abrupt end to this like there had been before. Bulma's fingers trailed up Vegeta's torso and to collar of his shirt, pressing down on the material of his deep blue garb that he was always wearing.

Her tongue was the first to explore the other's mouth, finding the slit of his lips and sliding across it threateningly. Bulma stepped closer to the saiyan, and this was when she felt the true extent of his desires for the first time.

It hit her in the lower stomach, a specific type of nudge that the Bluehead hadn't felt in a very long time. Pleased with his undeniable enthusiasm, Bulma rocked herself against his groin – just to be sure that his craving was as strong as possible.

"Good." He growled before deepening their kiss. His tongue began to dance with hers now, his hand still firmly holding the back of her head as if she might require the added support. He began to move his feet, guiding the both of them back towards the table. Bulma resisted, placing a hand on his chest and giving a slight push to indicate her protest. "No." She said after breaking her lips from his own. "Not there. We'll break it."

He grunted an acknowledgment before slamming his mouth against hers again, and this time she was the one to start leading them across the room. She put her hand around Vegeta's shoulder this time, giving a slight tug that indicated she wanted him to walk.

He obliged.

Vegeta was sucking on her lower lip now, grazing it with his teeth as he did so. Bulma's eyes had already been closed, but they began roll to the back of her head anyway. _Kami,_ she just couldn't think clearly anymore. Any awareness of her surroundings was void at the feel of that!

This became especially clear when she nearly toppled backwards over the side of the couch. The saiyan, who still had his arms around her body, easily caught the Bluehead and kept her feet balanced when she jolted. He abruptly tore his lips away from her mouth now, grunting under his breath as he leaned to the side of her face. "Where?" He growled, mouthing her earlobe.

"Ah-" Bulma gasped sharply, raking her nails along his back. She bucked her hips into his, throwing her head back from the sensation. "I- ahh -"

"Will we break the couch?" He growled impatiently.

"It's stronger than the table."

"Okay."

It was somewhat ironic that the saiyan, who had initially protected her from stumbling onto the couch, was now deliberately pushing her on it. Bulma pulled Vegeta down with her as she went, so that he was laying on her when she landed in the plump cushion. His excitement was hitting her again – digging straight into the bottom of her stomach as he groaned. "Take that towel off." He used his arms to push himself up off her body. _"Let me see you as you were in that tub."_

"Not yet." She replied. "First you need to tell me something."

"What?" Vegeta bit his lip. He had done a lot of waiting throughout his life, but that didn't particularly mean he was a very patient man. Right now he didn't think he could handle going a single moment longer without getting the only thing he had his mind on.

This was something he'd tried to fight, but in reality he'd been wanting it for weeks.

Even on the first day he'd encountered this girl, Vegeta had known she was unusual. He couldn't explain what it was back then, but she'd had a certain way of rendering him flustered. It had caused him to go rather easy on her when he was supposed to be the brute monster that kept her too scared to resist his demands. Something about her had left cracks in the ruthless demeanor that he'd spent his entire life perfecting.

It had left him wanting to keep her safe.

Their dynamic had completely changed from what it was when they'd first met, and he much preferred it this way.

He couldn't wait another moment longer for _her._

"Do you really want this?" She asked. "I mean - do you _really?_ "

"What are you on about?" He growled, sinking back down onto the Bluehead. "I know _you_ want this. _You_ knew what you were doing when you called me into that bathroom, clad in only your flesh. You knew what I would see and how I'd react. So don't play coy with me now. Don't ask me what I want..."

His fingers were trailing to the top of her towel now, and she put her hand on his to stop him. "I really didn't plan this." She breathed. "I honestly did not. I just didn't mind if it happened, that's all. I didn't try to prevent it."

"Then-"

"I need to know if you really _want_ this." She hissed. He furrowed his hips against her in response, causing her to gasp out as his member lurched against her pelvic region. She arched into his body as her head fell back, yet she was still holding his hand in place as she dug a nail into the top of it. "If you regret this..." She breathed. "Are you going to blame me."

"You question my certainty." Vegeta grunted before burying his face into the arch of her exposed neck. Her fingers went straight to his hair line, curling her nails into his scalp. "You seem like the type…" She breathed. "I'm not going to let you do that to me…"

' _Smart girl'_ He thought. Vegeta pulled his face away from her body so he could look down at her torso. He grabbed the top of her towel carefully, pushing himself off her figure to allow room for the cloth's removal.

Did she read minds? He may have told her he shouldn't have kissed her in the first place, but this prediction was strikingly accurate to his past. He'd done exactly as she'd said – his younger self really had reacted to all those girls by putting the blame on them. Yet Bulma didn't know all of that – how could she? The Bluehead had no grounds on making such a generalization, yet she'd been so spot on.

Vegeta may have acted impulsively and woken up to regret his decisions before, but he couldn't foresee such a thing happening this time around.

Not with this Woman - not with _her._

Still holding himself off her body so he could get a clear view, the saiyan ripped the soft towel away with a mere flick of his wrist. A low sound elicited from the back of his throat as he eyed her figure, his pupils falling on her bare chest for the first time. To him they were perfect - the absolute size, shape, and color that such delicate mounds should be. "I _am_ going to touch you." He said huskily. "And I _will not_ regret a thing."

That was the only bit of precursor Bulma received. She shot a hand to her mouth to muffle the involuntary moan that came out when she felt his calloused fingertips tracing across her sensitive folds.

Vegeta grinned, pressing his hand a little deeper against such a reactive bundle of nerves. His experience wasn't rich in quantity, and none of it was recent. But what he may not have known from personal encounters, his instinct was making up for. Her body worked as an insightful guide as well, her physical responses telling him to proceed with what he'd started. To continue exploring her body, to keep rubbing her just where it made her body jerk.

Another moan erupted from underneath Bulma's hand when his knuckle grazed her moist flesh, and Vegeta used his other hand to grab at her wrist. "Don't hide it." He ordered, pulling her hand back from her mouth. "Let me hear you."

But his exploration of her nether region did not continue after this. Instead he used both of his hands to slide down his pants before returning to his position on top of her.

"You don't waste any time, do you?" The Bluehead grinned breathlessly.

"I've wasted enough." He growled back.

When he pulled her hips against his and positioned himself at her entrance, she allowed it. And when she felt his tip nudging against her opening, Bulma began to realize that he wasn't quite the size she had grown accustomed to during her previous relationship. A small sense of hesitation clouded as she remembered just how long it had been since she'd participated in such an act. It was a voice in the back of her mind that said _'this might sting a little,'_ though it wasn't enough to make her change her mind.

But it was when he pushed himself in that her eyes flew open, and she swung an open palm at the side of his head. Her core was quivering with shock at the strength on his thrust, stretching so fast that it nearly felt like she would tear in four different ways!

In the time since her last sexual encounter her body had relaxed. It had tightened – it had grown dormant. As for any natural body to do, the lack of intrusion had resulted in a return to a more conservative size. It would take some reacquainting before she was completely back in the painless swing of things again. And when this fact was combined with his size, it felt as if she were a virgin all over again.

"Hey!" Vegeta rasped. His hips were still bucked against her own, but he wasn't moving as he studied her expression. He didn't seem offended, but rather looked a bit amused. "What was that for?"

"You could be a little more gentle!" Bulma hissed. "I haven't done this in over two years, you know!"

"Two years?" He raised an eyebrow before licking his lower lip. "You think _that_ is long? Well, it's been closer to _fifteen_ for me."

"Har-har... Don't joke. Look, I'm sorry I hit you. It was just a reflex thing, and I-"

"I didn't even feel it." He growled, his member slicking in a little deeper as he adjusted his weight on top of her. Bulma closed her eyes at the feel, her arms instinctively wrapping around the saiyan's neck. "... What?" He breathed, carefully lifting himself back out until only the very tip was remaining inside. She gasped at the sensation, her nails digging into his skin. He stifled a groan of his own, and if Bulma had her eyes open at this point she would have seen just how strained his expression was to be moving so slow. "Do you like this better, Woman?"

There was no reply to that, but Vegeta didn't necessarily expect one. Instead she simply bucked herself against him, setting a slow, careful rhythm. It was a cautionary dance that gained enthusiasm in repetition, leaving her eyes closed and her body writhing within seconds.

The Bluehead was adjusting to his size well enough. No longer was she in pain and feeling as if she might be ripped apart. All she felt was him, and each crevice of his skin that was slowly thrusting into her. Allowing for a more natural stretch. Allowing her to adjust.

The sensation was pleasant enough as it was, but when Bulma opened her eyes to see his chiseled face looking down at her, her senses heightened even further.

She was really doing this - she was doing _this,_ and with _him_. And he was peering down at her, staring into her eyes as if he were lost in a state of appreciative disbelief.

Vegeta was holding her figure against him with one arm, using his other for leverage as he worked. The saiyan had his jaw clenched as he fought to keep himself together. She was rocking against him with more determination now, but it was still much more slow than his impulses desired.

He wanted nothing more than to grab her by the hips and slam into them briskly and repetitively, until he lost all energy for such a thing and collapsed into her bosom.

But he just _couldn't._

Such a thing would really harm this frail woman underneath him. And she seemed to be so damned _content_ with the pace they had adopted, anyway! She was so lost now, rocking back and forth with his motions and moaning incomprehensible nothings in her bliss.

He could feel every centimeter of her warm flesh with each careful stroke. Every soft bit.

And, even though he was having to hold himself back, he found that he was more than okay with it. If anything, this calm pace they were keeping worked in prolonging the experience - something he hadn't considered even wanting to do until he knew just how incredible it felt to be inside.

When Bulma's peak came she lurched up off the couch to wrap her arms around Vegeta's torso, burying her face into his flesh. Gasping into his shoulder as she convulsed against his member, she twitched and moaned her approval as she rode through her waves of ecstasy. The friction became even more slick, her pace quicker in speed.

Any thoughts Vegeta had of prolonging this experience vanished when she bit his jawline. It was as if all of her lust had multiplied in those few seconds of climax, her rhythm faster than ever as she pressed a sweaty forehead into his shoulder. The saiyan bit his lip, but the growl that came from the back of his throat couldn't be stifled as he reached his own release...

.

A few moments later the two were laying in a sweaty heap on the couch that they had just _broken in_ , silently catching their breaths as they considered what they'd just done.

Bulma, who had already been unaware of the time after her nap in the tub, had now _really_ lost track of time. She wasn't sure how long they had been going at it for, nor how many minutes had passed that they had been laying so still during the aftermath. It could have been midnight for all she knew, though it hadn't even been noon when she'd started her bath.

It almost appeared as if Vegeta had fallen asleep when he finally pulled himself off of her. His eyelids drooping, his hair ragged. He didn't even look at her as he groggily pulled his pants back up, letting out a low groan as he did so.

Then, without a word, he stood. Bulma watched him go, noting how exhausted his posture looked as he made his way across the house and into the bathroom.

"Oh man." Bulma breathed, pushing herself into a sitting position. She couldn't recall ever feeling quite so _desired_ and _wanted_ during her previous sexual encounters. Vegeta hadn't just screwed her – there had been more to it than just that. The way he'd been looking at her, watching her face the entire time she moved. The way he had listened to her, the way he'd compromised to her body's needs.

This had felt completely different, and it hadn't just been due to the physical aspect…

The Bluehead was fairly certain that this had been the best sex she'd ever had…

.

Now, _THAT_ had been quite the physical session.

Vegeta stood under the shower head, piping hot water drizzling down his body as he rubbed his skin clean with a bar of soap. The sweat he'd worked up during his encounter with Bulma had been unexpected, and so was the aching muscle of his lower stomach. The position he'd been in, his tight abs working so slowly and repetitively with his hips, had left the saiyan feeling as if he'd just spent his time doing a series of push-ups.

It was as if acting so carefully was a harder strain on his body than if he'd just gone full force, and perhaps that was true. It certainly took more mental concentration to be so slow in his thrusts. It made sense that such a pace had been challenging for his demanding muscles as well.

Vegeta set the bar of soap down and began to rub his hands over his chest to make sure that every sud was swept off. As he began to reach for the tap to shut off the shower, he got hit by a mental wave that shot a jolt down his spine.

_What was that?_

Vegeta paused in action, the steaming water still hitting him over the head as he concentrated on what he'd just felt. It was as if he thought he might lose his focus if he moved - that the wave of ki he suddenly felt might go away along with the running water if he shut off the tap.

It was coming from a distance so far away that Vegeta couldn't deduct where exactly the source was. But this aura was so _strong_ , so unlike anything he'd come to expect of this planet.

And it had erupted out of seemingly nowhere, too.

"Frieza?" He muttered, though that didn't seem right. If Frieza had landed on Earth, then Vegeta would have likely traced his arrival while the tyrant was still lightyears away. It would have come to Vegeta slowly, growing stronger with every hour that passed. It wouldn't have hit him all at once like this ki did. It wouldn't have been so abrupt.

The ki was lingering, not growing weaker nor stronger as the saiyan considered its power. Feeling less taken aback now, Vegeta finally shut off the tap and stepped out of the tub. That aura he felt stayed with him as he ran a towel over his hair. And it did not retreat as he got dressed.

It started to feel as if the ki were fluttering when he stepped into the hall. It was pulsating, as if it were fighting to stay steady and was failing in its struggle.

_What was going on?_

Vegeta walked right past the den area and continued towards the kitchen. He didn't even glance at Bulma as he passed her on the couch, too perplexed at this strange aura to take note of anything else around him.

And then, as the saiyan began to step onto the kitchen tile, the ki suddenly vanished.

It did not dissipate, and it had not dulled. It was simply _gone_ , just as abruptly as it had appeared.

A death.

It had to have been those teenagers. The sudden spike of energy, followed by the harsh cessation of ki. It was just as all of those other fatalities had been. That peak of vitality when the person being slaughtered felt the panic of the situation, and they were trying everything they could to flee. Exerting all of their power to its edge, focusing on only one thing - to stay alive - until they finally lost the battle and were blown down where they stood.

This one had been different, though. Whoever those monstrous kids had just killed had been strong. _Really strong._ It had taken nearly 20 minutes for them to die. Almost half an hour of what must have been an incredible battle…

Vegeta heard the bathroom door slamming shut on the other end of the house, and only then did he snap out of his thoughts. Suddenly he was back in real time, standing in the kitchen of the capsule house, feeling dehydrated and hungry after an unexpected toss with the Blueheaded woman that he had tried so hard to resist.

Should he tell her what he'd just felt? Vegeta considered it, but not for more than a second. Bulma didn't need to know. Whoever had just died was now, well, dead. It was an anonymous person whose identity would never be known, and the only thing this information would do is cause the Bluehead to grow even more distressed than she already was.

' _We really need to get that dragon radar working.'_ Vegeta thought. It was becoming clear with each passing day that the teenagers were taking down anything in their paths. Just as the saiyan had predicted, they weren't going to stop until there was nothing left. The rest of the dragonballs needed to be retrieved – _now_.

.

_**Two days.** _

Bulma had said the dragon radar might require adjustments, and she hadn't been joking. It took the entirety of two days with her tinkering on that device before she announced it was ready.

It was two days that felt like they wouldn't end, and for once Vegeta didn't think this was necessarily a bad thing. So far away, in the middle of a land so remote that only ice and snow could be seen in any direction, there was nothing to distract either of them. The saiyan had utilized his time by training in Bulma's gravity room, and by now he had worked himself up to level 100 on the machine. He was getting decent progress made, which he couldn't really complain about.

Bulma seemed less stressed, herself. Hours away from the closest society, any internal nagging that the Bluehead had about trying to go see her parents or Gohan was put on hold. It was as if the remoteness had settled things in her mind - as if she'd told herself _"now there's no turning back"_ , and it had given her the assurance she'd been needing.

Who would have imagined that the land so cold that it almost killed her had also brought her a strange type of peace?

When Bulma and Vegeta had gone at each other on the couch, the saiyan had told her he wouldn't grow to regret it. This hadn't been a lie. It was as if he had discarded the vow he'd made to himself about staying celibate, and instead had replaced it with this new one he'd made to her. Vegeta didn't intend to begrudge what they had done, but he _had_ expected it to be just _that_.

Just a shag. That was all it was going to be.

After having her body and getting such a strong craving off his shoulders, Vegeta had thought that his issues would be resolved. A quick tumble, which in reality hadn't turned out to be so _quick_ , and he'd return to his right state of mind. He'd finally be able to move on, and he'd even be glad he'd done it.

But that hadn't worked out so well. In reality, this assumption ended up backfiring on him.

Because after Vegeta lost that sense of ki in the kitchen, he had immediately locked himself away in the gravity room. And exactly four hours later, at the end of the day when the two had been eating dinner together, the urge had struck him again.

All it had taken was one look at Bulma popping a steamed vegetable in her mouth as she stared down at her plate.

That single glance that the saiyan made was _all_ it took for the image of her inviting thighs came drifting back to his head...

Vegeta hadn't even finished his food, which was a first for him. He'd just pushed himself up from the chair, pulled Bulma out from her seat, and took her right then and there under the table.

And he'd done it again a few hours later, as they sat together in bed so she could fall asleep. Bulma had asked him to tell her about his experiences traveling to different planets. She'd wanted to know what it was like to have seen so many different worlds - what were the commonalities he'd noticed? What was his most unusual encounter?

Vegeta had just been starting to explain to her that she'd be surprised at how many life forms were out there that required oxygen to live, when she had traced the smooth palm of her hand down his forearm. That simple gesture, along with a serene smile on her soft face, was all it took to have him pushing her down on the mattress and sucking the arch of her neck…

The following morning he'd woken her up at the crack of dawn. She'd told him to leave her alone - that she needed another few hours of sleep before she started looking at the dragon radar. But that hadn't been what Vegeta had woken her for. All the saiyan wanted was another round with her body before he started his morning training session. She could go back to sleep after that if she still required it, he just _needed a_ taste to get his day going…

 _Kami_ , what had he started? It was as if he couldn't get enough!

The more he had her, the more he grew used to this. Something that seemed so horrible and forbidden just 20 hours earlier had become an expected perk between the two of them. He began to look forward to it, even, when they were both busy throughout the day. The knowledge that he'd be able to have her again kept him hyped up during his training sessions, kept him motivated to push himself harder during his workouts.

And he _did_ know that he'd be able to have her. Bulma hadn't complained or turned him away even once. Any time he asked, he would easily receive. It was an incredibly addicting high that was available for him any time, and his impulses wanted to take full advantage of it.

After a two day cycle of training, eating, shagging, and repeating, the two were sitting across from each other during the evening meal. That was when she did it - Bulma finally announced to Vegeta that the repairs to the radar had been completed.

She explained that she'd added thermal coating to the interior to protect it from freezing up again, and she said he would find the dragon ball without any more unexpected delays. With that Bulma had handed the device to him, happily stating that he could go get the ball whenever he wanted.

Looking down at the radar as if it were a foreign specimen, Vegeta frowned. He twisted the device in his hand, noting that it was heavier than it had been before. That added weight probably had to do with the thermal coating she'd mentioned…

' _Well,'_ Vegeta thought.

It was official.

The cycle was coming to an end. They could now move on with their hunt for the dragonballs, and they were now one step closer to him getting his wish. This was terrific news to be certain, but it was still news that the saiyan could have gone another two days without.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapter in less than 7 days! Phew!
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this one!
> 
> Note : In this story, Bulma is about 26 and Vegeta is closer to 28. He said it's been fifteen years since he last got some action, but it's been closer to thirteen. Remember that he hasn't been keeping an exact count of the time that's passed, and he also is a little inaccurate with his estimate because he isn't completely used to Earth years.
> 
> Also - if you are currently following my other story, you can expect an update to The 7 Year Gap really soon. :)


	17. Bulma's Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Another chapter is finally here!
> 
> Again, Bulma is about 26 and Vegeta is closer to 28. They may not always act like they are in their mid-late twenties, but then again these are two pigheaded/spoiled "elites" that are used to only getting their way. ;)

* * *

 

There was a nudging at Bulma's shoulder, and she rolled over to her other side in the bed. There was another nudge, the perpetrator obviously feeling relentless. With a grumble, the Bluehead pulled the blanket higher up to her chin.

"Bulma." Vegeta's voice muttered. "Hey. Wake up..."

Her lips were pursed, and she shook her head. "Give me a few hours..." She slurred, not yet ready to start the day. "I'm really tired... I won't be able to handle it yet..."

"No, Woman. I don't want _that."_

Reluctantly, Bulma finally opened her eyes and rolled back to see the man that was stubbornly prodding her ribs. Vegeta was kneeling at face level by the bed, and as soon as she had turned to him they locked eyes. "What is it?" She asked, blinking the sting of grogginess back from her lids.

"I'm about to leave for the dragon ball." Vegeta whispered – and he really was speaking _so_ quietly… It was as if he thought he might hurt her ears if he spoke any louder, which seemed a bit odd…

"Oh..." Bulma mumbled. She made to sit up, but the saiyan put a hand on her stomach to hold her in place. "No. Don't get up. I just needed to inform you that I'll be leaving. That's all."

He was looking at her, his features dimmed from the early morning light. Bulma raised an eyebrow, unsure where any of this was coming from. "You're coming back, right?"

"Of course." He replied, still whispering as if he were letting her in on some elaborate secret. "You will wait for me here."

She didn't understand what the point to any of this was. _Of course_ she would wait for him in the house - it was too cold for her to venture out on her own. There was no reason she should need to be instructed of such a thing. And it seemed obvious that if Bulma woke to see Vegeta gone the morning after receiving the fixed dragon radar, then she would have easily assumed he'd left to track down the ball.

So why had he felt the need to wake her? Just to tell her he was leaving? This was so unusual for the introverted man she'd grown to know. Feeling uneasy, Bulma made to sit up again. But Vegeta just held her down once more. "No," He repeated. "Go back to sleep."

"Is everything alright?" She asked.

"Of course." He replied. The saiyan was still kneeling at eye level with her. As the sun continued to rise into the sky, the room was becoming less dark. She could make out his facial expression with more clarity now, and he was staring at her with that same look he had when he would watch her intently during their love making.

Bulma stared back at him, feeling less concerned than she had a moment before. He certainly didn't _seem_ as if he were worried about anything happening while he was gone - not with a face like _that_. Maybe he really had woken her up just to say goodbye? Still, even if that actually was the case, it was quite out of character for this tightly wound man…

"Alright." He announced, rising to his feet. "I'm leaving, then. Go back to sleep." He was looking down at her as he stood, his eyes still locked with her own.

"You sure you're coming back?" The Bluehead mumbled, pulling the blanket back up to her chin.

"Why do you keep asking me that? Of course I'll be back."

"I just don't get why you'd wake me up for something like this, and then just tell me to go back to sleep. I'm worried you know something that I don't."

"No. I already said that I just needed to inform you that I'm leaving. Accept that, and stop catastrophizing things."

That was when he set his palm down to cup her cheek. Not moving from where he stood, rubbing her face with his thumb.

It was so random, so unprovoked, so unusual. Yet, as he stared into her eyes and caressed her face, the worry began to fade away. Instead Bulma just became reacquainted with the remaining fatigue that was still fogging her head, and quietly the Bluehead dozed back to her dreams...

.

_Go back to sleep._

This was something that Bulma had loyally done. And when she woke up hours later to see that the sun was now high in the sky, she threw the blanket off and jumped out of bed.

There was no telling how many hours had passed since Vegeta had paid her a visit _just_ to say goodbye... But judging by how she had woken on her own will, and not as a result of a slamming door or stomping feet, it was evident that Vegeta had not yet returned from his hunt. Bulma was alone in this house, which was isolated in the snow, and for the first time in days she had nothing to keep her occupied.

The anxiety was hitting her again, and it was washing over all at once. The desperate worry that something terrible was currently taking place. The sinking sensation that something awful was about to happen, if it hadn't already, and there wasn't any single thing she could do about it. By now it had been about four days since Bulma had heard from any of her loved ones, and that was simply four days too long.

"Oh, god..." Bulma thought, panting as she hysterically paced around the living room. How could this have happened? _Four_ entire days?! It didn't feel like four days! All she'd been doing lately was flying the plane, nearly dying of frostbite, working on the dragon radar, and... well, _shagging_ Vegeta...

She'd been so blissfully and utterly carefree! And when the threat of anxiety _did_ start to stir, Vegeta had been there to occupy her body and mind instead.

But now?

Now she was alone, and there wasn't anything to stop what was happening in her head.

Bulma ran for the monitor of the house's phone system and slapped her palm onto the power button. This system, which her father had repaired during her recent stay at the house, was still shotty at best. The screen buzzed as it came to life, and the Bluehead quickly typed in the identification number to her parent's home.

The buzz of the vacant line gave way to the loud ringing sound that was beckoning one of her parents to answer the call. Bulma, her mouth going dry as she waited impatiently for the call to be answered, began to hold her breath.

The ringing continued as the seconds slowly ticked by... When so much time had passed that Bulma had lost the ability to hold her breath and let out a gasp for air, the ringing was still slurring on the monitor...

"Why isn't anyone answering?" Bulma breathed. She slammed her hand down to end the call, shaking her head. Then, with shaking fingers, she typed the identification number into the system again.

And, again, the ringing noise lingered so long that it seemed as if it were doing such a thing just to mock her.

"Pick up!" Bulma snapped. "Answer the phone, already!"

But the call was never received. And, as Bulma sat by the monitor and held her head in her hands, all she could think of was the many things that this could mean...

.

Vegeta stepped into the house, rubbing ice crystals out of his hair and kicking soggy snow from the bottom of his boots. It had been annoying, but the saiyan had confiscated the fifth dragon ball from a temperamental polar bear that had decided that both him and the ball would be its lunch.

"Only two more to go." The saiyan muttered, marching down the hall so he could stow the ball in the Bluehead's duffel bag. And speaking of the woman, he hadn't bothered to sense her aura at all that day. He was already disgusted with how reluctant he'd been to leave her that morning – he didn't _need_ any more distractions while he'd been hunting for that ball... It came to his surprise, then, when he walked into the room to see that she had evidently been having a bad day…

Bulma was sitting on the bed with her back turned to the saiyan, looking down at her lap. Her arms were moving hastily in front of her as she worked at whatever it was she was doing.

Raising an eyebrow, Vegeta continued deeper into the room. Perhaps she hadn't heard him enter? She hadn't even twitched in his direction! But, as the saiyan stepped closer and his footsteps grew louder, Bulma still did not cease in her trance-like movements.

Curiously impatient, Vegeta finally cleared his throat. The Bluehead's swift arms still did not pause in their actions, and the saiyan just couldn't take it anymore. "What are you doing?" He finally said, and it was then that Bulma jumped. Seeming to hear him for only the first time, the Bluehead turned to glance at him over her shoulder.

"Oh. Hey. I need to know how my parents are doing." She explained, and there was no hint of cheer in her eyes. Her cheeks were sunken into a heavy scowl, her brows furrowed with concentration as she turned back to what it was she was working on.

Her words had done nothing in answering Vegeta's question, but he ignored this. The sun was high in the sky at this point, but it was only a matter of time before it started to lower again. "We need to go." He announced. "We still have two more balls to find."

"Just give me a minute..." Bulma glared down at her hands, though Vegeta couldn't see the look on her face.

"We don't _have_ a minute. We need to leave _now."_

Bulma's shoulders rose at this, and her arms abruptly stopped moving. Completely frozen, she took in a deep breath. The saiyan, who still had his eyes pinned on her back, cocked his head to the side as he watched her. After a moment of silence the Bluehead cleared her throat, and carefully she turned to eye Vegeta again.

"They're dead, aren't they?" She muttered, her blue irises glistening.

"What?"

"My parents. I can't get in contact with them... They won't answer any of my calls..." She coughed, an effort to mask the cracking in her voice. "I just want to see them... I just wish I could go back to check on them..."

"You can't do that." Vegeta shot. "You know the risks that would involve."

"But I just _need_ to see them..." Bulma groaned. "Oh, what if they _are_ still alive? I can try to convince them to come with us! I-"

"No, Woman. That won't happen. We are too far away to lose all the time it would to go back there. We need to find the rest of the balls."

"And if they _are_ dead, I just... I need to know." Bulma continued, not acknowledging what the saiyan had just said. "God, this is awful. I feel terrible, Vegeta! I'm going crazy just wondering what's going on!"

The saiyan bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn't been tracing her ki at all that day, indeed. But now that he was in the same room as her, it was clear to tell that she was verging on turmoil.

"Just give me a minute before we leave, okay? I want to finish what I'm working on." She was saying now. Her cheeks were turning pink, and she turned her back to the saiyan to mask the tears welling in her eyes.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Vegeta stepped forward to try and look over her shoulder.

With a sigh, Bulma pushed several strands of blue hair behind her ear. She scooted to the side to give the saiyan a better view, but she did not look back up at him. Still fighting back the tears, the Bluehead only stared at her lap as she let Vegeta get a look at her latest project.

He raised an eyebrow, taking in what he was seeing. Bulma had scattered several tools around her, including swcrewdrivers, a set of plyers, wrenches, and nuts. In the middle of the crafty debris was a chunk of metal that resembled a bird, a round plate of glass attached to the bottom. "What is it?"

"A camera." Bulma sighed, putting a pale hand on the specimen. She wasn't anywhere near as enthusiastic about this mechanism as she had been about the gravity room she had built. Vegeta had learned that this Woman seemed to get great joy out of creating these items, but this time around she was evidently getting no such fulfillment. If anything, if only seemed to be adding to her mental distress.

"This camera," Bulma continued, "Will fly to West City with coordinates I program into it. I'll be able to receive the images on the house phoen. That way I can see for myself if my parents are alright..."

"Woman..."

"I know they aren't." Bulma groaned, pulling her hand back to her lap. "Why else wouldn't they be returning my calls? Something must be wrong. But I just need to confirm. I can't keep playing these guessing games!"

"Woman." Vegeta grunted, stepping closer to the bed. "Your parents... they live."

"I don't know..." Bulma sighed. "I have a really bad feeling."

"No." Vegeta replied. "I can sense their power. They are alive." He then clapped a firm palm on her shoulder. He meant to be gentle, but he still used enough force that she fell back on the mattress.

"Hey!" Bulma quipped, but there was a smirk to her face. She'd learned enough about the saiyan by now to understand that it took a lot of concentration to hold back on his strength. And, while it might have been intimidating for a normal person to think of what type of damage Vegeta could inflict without even meaning to, Bulma found it amusing. He hadn't ever really hurt her, though she found his touch a bit rough at times. He was always careful to correct himself when she pointed it out though, and she found this part of her persona to be nothing short of a quirk.

Vegeta, recognizing the amusement on her face, shot her a devious grin back.

"Do you promise they're okay?" Bulma asked. "You can really sense them?"

"Yes." The saiyan replied. "Next time, just ask."

"How can I trust you? I won't believe it until I see it for myself." She batted her head to the side, and her statement had only been half true. Vegeta had told her multiple times that he wasn't trustworthy, and that he didn't want her to have such faith in him, yet she still did. She took his word seriously, believed that if he was stating something then it had to be worth regarding.

"Finish that camera on the plane, and you will see for yourself." Vegeta put a calloused hand on her leg now. "I'll pilot."

"You mean it?" Bulma replied, her smile growing brighter. "But if you steer then you won't get your training done."

"I can pilot." He repeated. He grabbed her other leg and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Now standing against her pelvic region, he leaned down to her face. Still smirking, he gave her thigh a firm squeeze. "I just want to go. _Now_."

And that was just what they did. Within 20 minutes the Bluehead had packed everything up and moved her project into the back of the plane. And, as Vegeta promised, he steered so that Bulma could finish tinkering with her work.

By the time they landed for the night they had made enough distance to have gotten out of the snow. Still chilly but nowhere nearly as debiliating, they set up the capsule house in a grassy pasture that gave a clear view of the moon above.

"I finished the camera." Bulma said softly as Vegeta walked in through the front door. She was still standing outside on the doorstep, and the Bluehead spoke with just as little enthusiasm as she had earlier that day. She was regarding her project as if it had been more of a strain than it had been an achievement, a grim frown on her lips.

"Good." The saiyan grunted back.

"Watch..." Bulma turned outward to face the chilly night. As Vegeta peered from inside the house, Bulma clicked the metallic bird into life. It spread its aluminum wings and let out a hiss as it charged up, and soon enough it was hovering at face level. In only a moment it had gained enough charge, and it went shooting off into the dark sky.

"Interesting," Vegeta muttered.

"Yeah... it should reach West City by the end of the day tomorrow..." Bulma replied. She ran a hand through her blue waves, and with another sigh she turned back into the house.

"You _do_ know they're alive." Vegeta said when she shut the door behind her.

"Well, if they are, then there's definitely something wrong. I should have heard from them by now." The Bluehead replied. "Anyway, you should use the training room tonight until you're ready to go to sleep. I'm going to go lie down."

And that was that. Bulma didn't say anything else to Vegeta before locking herself away in the bedroom. She didn't say inspect the refrigerator for dinner, didn't bid the saiyan goodnight. She didn't even ask the saiyan to come sit with her as she fell asleep, as had become routine for them over the past few days.

It had been so out of character for her that Vegeta didn't think she was actually going to sleep, and he was quick to take her up on her suggestion of spending the rest of his night in the gravity room.

It wasn't until Vegeta emerged from the training room two hours later that he finally reached out for Bulma's ki, for the first time that day. He felt her, dim and swelling with trepidation, and he had gone in to check on her. What he found in the bedroom was a dozing Bluehead buried within the thick blankets, which had taken him by surprise. Never had she felt so foreboding as she slept, yet she did now…

' _She really_ _ **is**_ _stressed.'_ The saiyan thought. Feeling uncomfortable with this mental comment, he ran a hand through his spiky hair as he slowly stepped back out into the hall...

.

The next morning Bulma wasn't feeling much better when she pulled herself out of bed and carefully slipped into the bathroom. It was still dark out, and she could hear Vegeta's deep breathing from the couch that indicated he was still asleep. Bulma couldn't remember if there had been a time when she had awakened earlier than the saiyan to start the day - other than the time she spent working on the gravity machine at her house.

But she just couldn't take the restless sleep anymore, and she was desperate to do something else! The Bluehead ran a bath and soaked until she heard movement in the house to alert her that the saiyan was awake, and it was then that she drained the tub.

She didn't speak a word before they took off in the sky, other than to insist that she wanted to pilot the plane. And she didn't say anything after, staring blankly ahead as she fell into a monotonous robotic state of checking the controls and confirming that their path was clear.

She stayed that way for some time, resting her cheek in a hand as she hypnotically watched the sky ahead. Hours passed with hardly any change, and it wasn't until Vegeta came bursting out from the gravity room that she snapped out of her stupor.

"We're taking a detour!" He exclaimed, jumping into the copilot's chair and quickly buckling himself in.

"What?" Bulma replied, blinking at him.

"We need to head west." The saiyan said, with such urgency in his voice that Bulma obliged without further question. The plane dipped to one side as she adjusted the route, and when the vehicle had stabilized once more she turned to look at the man beside her.

Vegeta had sweat dripping down the side of his face, and Bulma couldn't tell if this was from the workout or if it was from his own stress. "What is it?" She asked.

"I feel something... I need to see what it is." He replied. "Keep going straight for another half hour, and then land. I will investigate."

"What do you feel?" Bulma pressed, but the saiyan merely shook his head. She knew it couldn't have been those kids who had nearly killed him - Vegeta had already told her that they had no discernible auras. And he didn't seem to be upset enough to think it was Frieza… Her curiosity peaked, but not necessarily afraid, Bulma continued on the path that had been instructed to her without a second thought.

When they landed exactly 30 minutes later, Vegeta made no hesitation in unstrapping himself and jumping from the seat. "Stay in here and wait for me." He commanded, making for the door.

"Wait a second, tell me what's going on." The Bluehead replied. "How long am I supposed to just wait?"

"I'm sensing a considerable ki not too far from here." Vegeta said. "It will take another half hour for me to reach it. I do not foresee any danger, but there's no reason to risk your involvement."

"So you'll be gone for at least an hour?" Bulma sighed. "What am I supposed to do for an hour?"

"I don't know, Woman!" He growled. "I need to go!"

"Just wait a minute!" Bulma replied. "What are-"

"Find something to occupy yourself, and make due! And don't even think about leaving this plane, understand!?"

"You can't tell me what to-" Bulma started to snap back, but Vegeta had already kicked the door open and taken off into the sky.

"Oh!" She bit her lip, curling her small hands into fists. As she ran for the door to watch the saiyan's figure fading into the distance, Bulma was starting to feel as if she were on the verge of some kind of breakdown. She was growing tired of constant travel, sick from the constant worry of what was happening at home, and bored of being locked up in either the plane or the house. What was she supposed to do now?!

"I can't stand this!" She barked, dropping to a seating position and holding her head in her hands. "Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!"

.

That ki had been teasing him.

It had suddenly erupted when Vegeta was training in the gravity room, and it hadn't let off since. Rather than a typical spike he felt when someone was apparently on the verge of death, this ki was pulsating…

…In a pattern.

It would spike for 30 seconds, lower to half power for 15, and then disappear for 10 seconds before spiking once again.

Someone was baiting him - they _knew_ he could feel them, and they wanted him to understand.

He very well could have been flying right into a trap. But the ki he felt, albeit quite high, was nothing that he thought he couldn't handle. It wasn't even as powerful as the aura he had encountered a few days earlier, just after sleeping with Bulma for the first time!

If this was a fight that someone was trying to instigate, they would receive it. But there was no way he was steering the Bluehead into the path of any crossfire. No - this was an intriguing situation he was going to investigate on his own.

If this person knew that Vegeta could sense them, then surely they must be able to feel him too. He had no doubt that they would stay put as he flew to their whereabouts, and he was making a straight path for them.

Tree tops swirled below as he raced by. After spending quite some time in a land only covered in ice, it almost felt surreal to be once again surrounded by green. And when Vegeta finally spotted blue, a clearing in the trees that made room for a lake, he knew he had reached his destination. The source of the ki was just down below, standing behind one of those trees.

Vegeta was feeling irritable with anticipation of a good match, not having had one in months. Licking his lips as he prepared for the surge of adrenalin, the saiyan landed on the lake's shore and crossed his arms. Staring at the specific tree that the perpetrator was standing behind, he cleared his throat and waited for this person to walk out.

And, after a few second of suspense, they did.

Vegeta was somewhat taken aback when he saw him. The man didn't look native to this planet at all, which was fairly uncommon for these rural, backwater galaxies...

This man was not from around here at all…

His skin was a rubbery green, and the scowl on his face was just as pointed as his ears. The man had his eyes fixed on Vegeta as he stepped further out from the trees. "I was wondering when you would show yourself" He growled.

"How long have you been anticipating my arrival?" Vegeta replied, narrowing his eyes.

"I've been keeping tabs on you since you landed on my planet." The green man said. "I was suppressing my energy until the right time..."

' _Idiot!'_ Vegeta thought, the mental insult directed at both himself and the man in front of him. Who _was_ this guy? Vegeta understood the concept of spiking ki, but to disguise one's own aura - something Vegeta hadn't yet realized was fathomable. The saiyan prince was used to everyone on Frieza's base using their scouters to trace his exact whereabouts at all times - that he had grown used to. It had been such a normal part of his life that he hadn't even considered he could manipulate his aura, and now he felt like a fool for not considering of it sooner. Vegeta was trying to mask his surprise, but he could tell by the smirk on this green man's face that he hadn't done a very good job of it.

"Well?" Vegeta hissed, raising an eyebrow. "If you're so calculated, then why did you bait me here?!"

"Why do you think?" The green man replied, and slowly the smirk faded from his lips. To the average eye the man suddenly disappeared into thin air, but Vegeta could still see his actions clearly. The saiyan spun around in enough time to block an attempted punch, the two men's eyes locked on one another. The man nodded before disappearing again, but Vegeta was able to follow his movements with even more ease. He flew up into the air, chasing this stranger's path. And, ten meters above the lake, the two began to engage in a spiral of dodges and punches, an assessment of each other's capabilities and technique.

This green stranger was good, that was to be certain. But he still wasn't quite on the same level as Vegeta, who was the first to land a hit. His fist collided with the man's jaw, knocking him back and sending him into the lake below.

Vegeta, dusting off his hands as if he'd just completed some minimal task, calmly landed his feet on the lake's shore to wait for the man to rise.

When the stranger went shooting out of the water a few seconds later, he didn't seem to be angry. Instead, he calmly landed across from Vegeta, and confidently he nodded his head. "You're as good as I thought."

"Perhaps if I weren't a saiyan you might have intimidated me." Vegeta nodded back. "Now tell me why you baited me here, or next time I hit you I'll actually put some effort into it."

Instead of responding, the green man turned towards the nearby trees. "It's okay, kid." He called then, eying the leafy grove. "You can come out now."

_Kid?_

Jaw locked, Vegeta looked up to the brush that this stranger was calling to. As he watched, the leaves began to rustle, and out stepped a familiar looking face…

Gohan, his hair knotted looking almost grey with sand, came tiptoeing out from the shrubbery. His eyes were to his feet, and his face looked much more pale that it had been when Vegeta had met him about a week earlier.

His ki was even more dim than it had been during their last encounter, and the saiyan prince hadn't recognized his aura at all. "What are you doing here?!" Vegeta snapped, his mood growing even more sour at all of the surprises he'd received in the last ten minutes alone.

"What he _means_ to ask if why he didn't know you were here." The green man growled, nodding at Gohan. "Tell him, kid."

The boy, his head drooping on his shoulders as if it was too much weight for his neck to bear, slowly began to pick his face up. Hesitating, as if one look at Vegeta might turn him to stone, Gohan took his time in looking up to the saiyan prince.

When the two finally locked eyes, the boy had a scowl on his dusty cheeks. There was no light in his bitter eyes, which now almost appeared to wrinkle on his adolescent skin. "You didn't know I was here," Gohan said. "Because Mr. Piccolo has been teaching me how to disguise my power level."

" _YOU?!"_ Vegeta croaked, and in that moment his left eyelid was twitching. " _You?_ Even for an offspring of a third class commoner, your ki was laughably weak to begin with! Why should _you_ need to mask your ki!"

"It was good enough that even you didn't recognize him, so shut up!" This man - _Piccolo_ , as Gohan had called him – was quick to jump to the boy's defense. "This kid is a lot stronger than you give him credit for, and I've been teaching him how to harness his power."

"That boy is a dud." Vegeta shot back with a cackle. He had initially thought that this stranger had invited him over for the sole purpose of humiliating him, but who was laughing now? "Gohan couldn't have even hurt a small rodent with the ki he was eliciting when I met him a week ago. And he did not even know how to preserve his energy back then! What use is it in trying to teach this _boy_ anything?"

Piccolo's face was turning even more green than it naturally was as Vegeta gleefully mocked them, and he turned back towards Gohan as if considering the saiyan prince's words. "I don't think you know who this kid's father was." He grunted. "While dormant, his power may be dull. But when he's instigated, his strength almost reminds me of his dad."

"Hm." Vegeta, a residual chuckle in his voice, turned to Gohan, too. "And what would make Piccolo come to such a conclusion, _boy?"_

"It doesn't matter." Piccolo spat before Gohan had the chance to reply. "He doesn't need to tell _you_. What does matter is this kid might he our key in stabilizing this planet's fate."

" _This_ kid?" Vegeta balked.

"Gohan told me that you and Bulma were the ones who warned him of those two teenagers that are killing everyone off. So don't play dumb, you know exactly what will become of Earth if they aren't stopped."

"And you actually want me to believe that _this_ kid is supposed to be the saving grace?!" Vegeta spat. "Now you're really starting to piss me off! If they were a challenge to me, then how do you think this _infant_ will defeat them!? What an _insult!"_

"There's no doubt you have experience, and yet you're talking like a complete idiot." Piccolo shot back. "If we're going to beat those kids, then obviously we need to work together as a team. Gohan has the potential to accomplish way more than I can, even I know that."

"The way you two can help in defeating those guys is to stay out of my way!" Vegeta barked back. "All I need is time to prepare, and a place to keep that Woman safe during battle. I don't need _your_ help!"

"Don't be such an Idiot!" Piccolo retaliated, but Vegeta was already too far gone in his anger to be spoken down from.

"Why don't _you_ do me a favor, and stop wasting my time!" The saiyan prince barked back. It was then that he spit on the ground, and in the next instant he was shooting into the sky like a bottle rocket.

Piccolo, chewing on his tongue, just watched as the saiyan disappeared from view. _How could this man be so stubborn?_ What was _**wrong**_ with him?

"MR. VEGETA!" Gohan called, and this was the first time in days that Piccolo had heard so much emotion in the boy's voice.

"He's not coming back!" Piccolo growled. "Not now, at least. He'll be back after those kids beat him half to death – if they don't finish him off, that is…"

"I've gotta go after him, Mr. Piccolo!" Gohan exclaimed, turning to his companion with a strained look on his face. "I didn't even get to ask him about Miss Bulma!"

"Rmmm..." Piccolo growled. "… Fine. Go. But watch yourself. Obviously, the guy has a sensitive ego. He might take it out on you if he's still in a bad mood when you catch up to him."

"I'll be back!" Gohan shouted, and he was already taking off into the air.


	18. Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New AN on 31st Oct: Thanks for 3,000 hits! I’m so happy about that! I know this story isn’t as popular as some of the other AUs floating around, but the fact it’s getting these views is amazing. :)

That little pest was after him.

Vegeta could feel that he was being followed by Kakarot's son, but he didn't stop until he was more than halfway back to the plane. After nearly twenty minutes of the kid's relentless chasing, the saiyan abruptly twisted in the sky so he could make a sharp landing on the forest floor.

Gohan followed, landing just beside him with a firm thud.

"What do you want, kid!" Vegeta barked without even looking at him. "I already told you to stay out of my way!"

Gohan hadn't really planned what he would say when he'd caught up to Vegeta. All he had known was that he needed to see him. He trusted Bulma's opinion on people, but the adolescent boy still felt unsure about the temperamental man in front of him. Gohan was standing across from Vegeta and staring at him, but the hostile saiyan prince refused to return the gesture.

"Well?!" Vegeta spat, glaring at a tree as if he were about to attack it.

"Is Miss Bulma still with you?" Gohan, rigid and hesitant, finally asked.

" _Bulma?_ You chased after me to ask about _her?"_ Vegeta began incredulously. It was then that he turned to Gohan, ready to start on a long winded tirade. But when his eyes fell on the boy, who still looked just as uneasy as ever, the saiyan's mind skipped. "Hey, wait a minute..."

The kid was kid was looking back at him, his lips slightly parted as he watched the furrowed wrinkles fading from Vegeta's forehead. "You know," The man said. He was not yelling anymore, but his tone was still hostile. "The Woman _would_ probably find delight in seeing you, though I'll never understand why."

"Okay?" Gohan nodded. It was amazing how this strange guy could be so insulting, no matter _what_ he was saying! Perhaps his mother hadn't been too far off base when she encountered an immediate dislike for him…

"Fine. Okay, that's it. Keep following me and you'll be reunited with your precious _Miss Bulma_. But don't speak another word to me, or I'll show you just how powerful I really am. Got it?!"

With that and nothing else, the saiyan prince took off into the sky again.

.

Her mind was foggy.

For the last hour, Bulma had lost herself to her own pent up woes. Sitting on that same spot on the plane's floor, the Bluehead had sobbed until a throbbing headache rendered her soundless.

How was it that only a month ago her deepest grief was the death of her childhood best friend? Now, weeks later, Bulma almost missed that. _At least_ back then she had only one person to mourn...

But how could she say that now?

Now for all she knew, Goku's wife and children were dead, too.

And not only them, but her parents…

Most likely the entire city had collapsed at this point!

For all Bulma knew, the entire continent she had spent her life on was on the verge of being wiped out, and the toll would only continue to rise.

It almost felt stupid, and even selfish, to remember that just a month earlier she had mournfully thought that she had lost it _all_ when Goku had taken his last breath…

Bulma was now rocking back and forth, taking in slow gulps of air as she massaged her aching temples. "Okay, girl..." She sighed, a shiver running down her spine. "Get it together. Get it together... You've _got_ to stop crying…"

But suddenly she stopped rocking, and it wasn't due to her own encouraging words. Her hands paused their caressing movements on the sides of her head, and she licked her dry lips. Opening her eyes and staring at the metal wall in front of her, the Bluehead carefully nodded to confirm that she had officially concluded her bout of tears.

Outside was the loud whistling sound in the sky that indicated Vegeta's return. As morose as she felt, the idea that she would no longer be alone soothed the residual sadness out of the Bluehead's eyes, and she quickly rubbed them dry.

She took the few seconds before the saiyan's arrival to stand and find a chair in the back of the plane. Crossing one leg over the other, Bulma tried to appear casual as she glanced out the window. And, when the door was pulled open and the saiyan prince came marching in, she heard his feet stop short in the doorway.

"You look like hell." His voice cracked, and Bulma looked up from the window with an innocent expression on her face that said _'who, me?'_

The saiyan, while his voice sounded rough, had a concerned look on his face that seemed foreign on such a man. He was making his way for her, holding a hand out as he approached. "I told you to find something to occupy yourself, Woman! But I wasn't thinking about _that!"_

"What are you on about?" Bulma stood. She glared at him, as if this would mask the swollen eyes and pink complexion that always came after a full-blown crying session.

"I'm on about _you."_ He replied, and he was standing just in front of her now. "Were you in distress the _entire_ time I was out?"

Bulma was going to respond, but the sound of more feet arriving in the doorway had her looking up instead. When she saw Gohan, who was peeking into the plane and looking as if he were frightened that he was interrupting something between the couple, her face lit up.

"Gohan!" She exclaimed, and she jumped to meet him. As she moved Vegeta caught her wrist, preventing her from getting more than a step away.

"Wha-?" She started, turning to look at the saiyan prince over her shoulder. Vegeta still had that concerned look in his eyes, but a firm tone in his pupils was now diluting any empathy. Bulma stared back, his grip around her wrist tightening. "What is it?" She asked softly, still feigning ignorance to his observation.

His eyes were glazing at he stared at her, his frown deepening when she asked her question. Finally, with a sigh, he let go of her and turned away. "Go speak to the boy." He muttered. "We will continue this conversation later."

With a smile, Bulma turned back towards Gohan, who was still standing in the doorway. "Where did you come from?!"

"I followed Mr. Vegeta," The boy replied, in that timid tone that was so typical of him to have.

"Vegeta brought you here?" The Bluehead beamed, turning back to take another look at the saiyan prince himself. "Oh! That's why you were so urgent about me staying here! You wanted to surprise me!"

Vegeta's eyes widened, having been caught completely off guard by her proclamation. "I... I _what?"_ He blinked, but Bulma was already back to fawning over Gohan before he had the chance to think of a more fitting response.

"What are you doing all the way out here?" She asked, scooping the boy into a warm hug.

Gohan remained stiff against her embrace, his breath catching in his throat as she ran an affectionate hand down his back.

"Oh!" The Bluehead cooed. "I'm just so _happy_ to see you're okay!"

.

An hour later, Gohan had bathed and was eating a quick meal that Bulma had thrown together in the capsule house.

The boy, rigid and uncomfortable in demeanor, hadn't spoken much since the Bluehead had whisked him away into the her cheer and attempts at hospitality, the boy hadn't so much as smiled. It was easy enough to see that something in his life had gone horribly wrong since their last encounter.

While he had always been fairly timid in behavior, his interactions were lacking any of the carefree ambience that was always profound in a boy so ripe with age. Perhaps he had gotten into a dispute with Chi Chi and had snuck away, and was now riddled with guilt? Or perhaps this was pent up tension about the passing of his father, which had still happened only recently?

Whatever it was, Bulma tried to communicate to the child that he was in a safe environment with her careful attempts at comfort. She watched as Gohan ate, devouring his food in the same desperate manner than both Goku and Vegeta always had when they consumed anything. When he finished with his entree he looked up at the Bluehead, and it was then that he spoke more than he had in the last hour. "Thanks a lot for everything, Miss Bulma. But you really didn't have to."

"You were hungry, weren't you?" She replied, still sporting a smile. She was sitting across the table from him, and Bulma slid the plates out of the way so she could have a more clear view of the kid. "Are you ready to tell me how you got all the way out here?"

Vegeta, who was irritably leaning against a corner at the side of the room, looked up when she asked this. The only thing that had kept him from locking himself in the training room during Gohan's visit had been the subtle curiosity of Piccolo's premonition about the boy.

"I'm not ready to tell you, but I don't think it's something I should keep to myself." Gohan said bluntly, and Bulma found herself leaning closer towards him. "Well, um... you know those Island Killers you warned me and mother about?" He fidgeted slightly in his seat. "Well, I guess you were right about them. Mom should have listened..."

" _No."_ Bulma raised her eyebrows. "Wait… Do you mean...?"

"They came just a couple of days after you visited..." The kid was mumbling now, breaking eye contact with the Bluehead so he could instead stare at the wall.

"Rubbish!" Vegeta snapped then, stepping out from the end of the room. "There's _no_ way you would be sitting here if those two had attacked, boy!"

"Vegeta!" Bulma hissed.

"Why would I make this up?" Gohan replied, rather monotonously for the situation. "They did come for us. That's exactly _why_ I'm here, Mr. Vegeta."

"You're a little liar! There's no way those two would have spared you during a confrontation, and they're too fast for you to have outrun." Vegeta spat. "How do you think you'll explain _that?"_

"Maybe if you let the kid speak, he _would_ explain!" Bulma shot. "Stop being so rude!"

With a grumble, Vegeta stalked across the room and took a seat at the far end of the table. Glaring at the child, he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair expectantly.

"Don't mind him." The Bluehead said, turning back to Gohan and placing her hand over one of his. "He's more harmless than he seems."

"That's a lie!" Vegeta chimed defiantly, but the Bluehead dismissed this with a wave of her hand. "Come on." She said to child, trying her best to sound reassuring. "I want to hear the rest of your story. What exactly happened?"

"Well, I can't say much because there's a large chunk that I don't remember." Gohan said, pulling his hand away from Bulma shyly. "I just... I remember seeing them hurt my Mom... They… One of them hit her… with this white beam of light… I just saw her getting hit, and the next thing I remember, Mr. Piccolo was flying me out here."

" _Piccolo?!"_ Bulma gasped.

"Yeah. _**Mr.**_ Piccolo."

"With the pointy ears and the green skin?" The Bluehead looked as if she was suddenly feeling wheezy, sweat forming at her hairline and her cheeks growing pink in hue.

"Yes..." Gohan had an impatient tone now. Why did everyone keep questioning everything he said? As if he didn't know his own life! What were _with_ these two?! "He was flying me out here. We landed by the lake. I was hurt pretty bad, but I have some senzu beans, so I was fine after I ate one... You know, I had been carrying them around in my pocket ever since your warning. It's a good thing I decided to start doing that."

"Wait - what lake?" The Bluehead gasped. _"Here?!_ Is... Is Piccolo _here?"_ She quickly began fanning herself with her hand, her eyes growing so wide they looked as if they would burst out from her skull. Vegeta raised an eyebrow and straightened his posture in his seat, staring right at her. "What's with you, Woman? You're acting like some small flustered animal."

"I've been staying with Mr. Piccolo ever since." Gohan stated calmly. "I... I don't always like it... He's even more strict than my mom was... But I do like _him."_

"You aren't going _back_ to him, are you?" The Bluehead shook. "T-Tell me you're planning to stay with us instead..."

"Of course I am!" Gohan replied. "Why wouldn't I? And I should probably be leaving soon, actually. I know he's waiting for me."

It was with this that he turned to Vegeta. "I hope you consider what Mr. Piccolo said earlier, sir. He's really smart, and I think he makes a good point."

"Hm." Vegeta grumbled, glaring back at the boy.

"What point?" Bulma's mouth was hanging open, her voice growing higher in pitch. "Vegeta, what is he talking about? What happened while you were gone?"

"It doesn't matter." The saiyan growled back.

"Mr. Piccolo is training me so I can learn how to fight." Gohan explained. "He thinks that Mr. Vegeta should team up with us so we can beat those guys. He thinks it's the only way we stand a chance in defending the Earth, and I have to agree with him."

" _Piccolo?!_ Since when does he care about Earth?!" Bulma croaked, but Gohan was pushing himself up from his chair. "Hey! Wait!"

"I'm really happy to see you're alive and doing well." Gohan nodded. "But I really need to be getting back. I hope you guys will think about everything and come see us soon."

"There's no point in going back." Vegeta finally announced.

"What?" Both Bulma and Gohan replied in unison.

"Piccolo is on his way. He'll be here soon."

"He is?" Gohan smiled.

"Oh, _God!"_ Bulma screeched in horror, and she jumped so high that she went crashing into the ground with the chair landed on top of her. Feeling stunned, the Bluehead just laid where she was as she blinked some of the consequential stars from her eyes.

The last she had seen of Piccolo, he had been defeated by Goku during the world tournament. He had vowed that he would surpass Goku's strength so that he could one day kill him and take down Earth, and the Bluehead had been hoping he'd never be successful in his training and she'd never see him again.

Before Bulma had found enough motivation to stand, Vegeta was already at her side. "What's _with_ you!?" He was asking her again, pulling the Bluehead to her feet with hardly any effort whatsoever. "One would think you're afraid of Piccolo with how you keep reacting to the mention of his name."

" _Of course_ I am!" Bulma hissed, grabbing one of Vegeta's meaty biceps and curling her nails into it. She was trying to keep her voice low so that Gohan might not hear, but this was a futile effort since the boy was standing just across from her. "Piccolo is _not_ a good person!"

"Why would you say something like that?" Gohan chimed.

"Because he's not!" Bulma squealed. "He hated your father and he wants to kill us all! He... _He-!"_

"Woman." Vegeta hissed then, and unlike Bulma he was actually being successful in shielding his words from Gohan's ears. He was leaning to the side of Bulma's head, his lips just centimeters away from her ear. As he spoke his warm breath clapped against her skin, causing light bumps to curl down her spine. "Whatever may have occurred between you and that man is irrelevant now. I am stronger than Piccolo, and he is of no threat to you. _I will protect you._ "

"I don't think Piccolo hated my dad." Gohan said then. "He has a tough way about him, but I don't think he's that bad. There's no way he could _hate_ someone. He's a good person, Miss Bulma!"

The Bluehead was gritting her teeth now, her nails still clamped into Vegeta's arm. "Remember what I said before." The saiyan prince was muttering. "You are capable of being quite courageous... Be brave in front of the boy, Woman..."

"I can't!" Bulma wailed. She let go of Vegeta, shaking her head profusely as she began to back away. It didn't take more than a second before her back was slamming against the wall, and she jolted from the shock of it.

"Well," Vegeta cleared his throat. He turned towards Gohan now, nodding at him. "I'd say the opinion is unanimous. Bulma doesn't like Piccolo, and I don't need any help. You two are on your own."

Gohan opened his mouth to object, but Bulma's shaking voice beat him to it. "I didn't say that!"

"What?!" Vegeta balked.

"The training room." Bulma continued carefully, though her chest was still bobbing as she panted in fear. "They can use the training room."

"What?!" Vegeta balked again. "No way! That's _my_ room!"

"It is not!" The Bluehead snapped back. Suddenly she didn't look quite so frightened anymore. _"I'm_ the one who made it - it's mine! And even if I'm apprehensive of Piccolo, I still care about Gohan! I'm not going to hold them back if they want to train to beat those teenagers!"

"I already told them to stay out of my way!" The saiyan prince shot, but any attention on him was abruptly disrupted when a loud knock came at the door.

"Ah!" Bulma squeaked, all the fear coming back to her face. "He's here!"

"Mr. Piccolo!" Gohan exclaimed, jumping to greet the guest.

"Veggie." Bulma huffed, clambering back towards the saiyan prince and finding a safe spot behind his back. "Veggie. He's here."

"I know he's here! You don't have to tell me!" The saiyan grumped as her fingers curled into his skin. "And why should you care? You invited the man to use our resources!"

"I know I did. _Of course_ I did. What choice do I have? How could I say no? What if he _really_ does want to do good?" She pressed her forehead against the back of his shoulder. "Oh god... He's actually here…"

"Quiet, or he'll hear you." The saiyan hissed. "Stop worrying so much. I'm here, remember?"

The Bluehead didn't respond. She just tightened her lips, nodded against his back, and then looked up over his shoulder to see as Gohan opened to door and invited _the_ one and only Piccolo inside.

"I'm not going inside, kid. I didn't come here to sit around and play kiss-ass." Piccolo was stating to the boy before shooting a scowl at Vegeta. "Gohan, I came here to tell you it's time to leave. We need to start our next sparring session."

"You can do that here!" Bulma blurted from over Vegeta's shoulder. "We have a great gravity simulator that would be perfect!"

Vegeta clenched his jaw at this. He let out a low gurgling sound, slapping a palm into his face as he cringed from that Bluehead's blabbering mouth.

.

Five minutes later, Bulma had explained the concept of the gravity room to Piccolo, who seemed to be intrigued. "I have to admit it's impressive you had enough perception to think of such a thing." He told her, in his calm, yet intimidatingly deep voice. "But we're not yet ready for that. Maybe in a week."

" _A week?"_ Vegeta snapped. "I told you the kid wasn't strong! You still need a week before he can even handle increased gravity!"

"Shut up." Piccolo replied, shooting Vegeta a sideways glance. "I said the kid isn't ready, but that doesn't mean he's weak. If he's going to train, then he's going to do it right. He still needs to perfect his form before he adds higher resistance."

The saiyan prince paused at this, unable to find a reason to mock that… Piccolo had a point, and he resented it.

"The kid has been progressing incredibly fast. We might not even need a full seven days." Piccolo continued calmly. "If you ever get your head out of your ass for longer than two seconds then you'd see how much he's improved since he was living with his mom."

"Rrr..." Vegeta growled, balling his hands into fists.

"Anyway, we're leaving. You may not care to see us again, but we'll be keeping track of you and come back when the kid is ready for more intensive sparring. Try not to get yourself killed before we meet again."

With that, as Bulma watched from over Vegeta's shoulder, Piccolo ushered Gohan outside. The boy had hardly been able to even utter a goodbye before Piccolo grabbed the back of his shirt and went shooting off into the sky with him.

"Such idiots!" Vegeta growled, stepping out of Bulma's clutches. He marched to the entry of the capsule house and slammed the door shut, resulting in a few hairline cracks that formed along the frame. "Woman!" He snapped, turning towards the hallway. "Where did you put the capsules!? I'm going to go train!"

"My name is _Bulma!"_ She shot back, but the Bluehead ran after Vegeta to the bedroom so she could retrieve her dufflebag, which had been stashed in a corner.

"I thought you wanted to go get the next ball?" She asked, snatching the capsule for the training room and holding it out for the saiyan.

"It can wait - we still have time." Vegeta growled, pulling the capsule out of her hand. "Those fools think they're too good for your creations. The kid will be strong in a week – bah! I'll show them just how much progress I can make! They'll be groveling at my feet the next time I see those two!"

"So you're just going to start training? _Right now?_ I'm getting bored, Vegeta!" The Bluehead cracked as he stormed from the room. "If you spend the rest of the day training, then I'm going to go explore! There's a town nearby that I can go pick up supplies from. We're running low on groceries."

"You will not!" Vegeta barked from the living room. "You won't be going anywhere without me!"

"Yes I will!" Bulma huffed, stalking out to meet him as he reached the house's small foyer. "I can't keep sitting around with nothing to do. I getting so stir crazy! I need to stretch my legs!"

"Woman, I don't know what _stir crazy_ means, but you're going to stay right here. You go out, and you run the risk of encountering those kids." The saiyan replied. "Even if you don't encounter those teenagers, you _still_ have a large change of encountering trouble. Need I remind you _yet again_ about the incident with the first ball?"

"Well, I'm not going to meet those kids because they're most likely nowhere around here!" Bulma shot back. "And I won't be going to another saloon or crummy joint. I'll just be going to a marketplace to pick up food!"

"You will wait until I am available to escort you." Vegeta announced firmly. "I need to be there to defend you should an undesirable encounter arise." And, as if that settled everything, he walked outside. Bulma watched from the doorway as he threw the capsule out and disappeared into the room that formed from the yellow smog.

Gritting her teeth, Bulma gave her hair a short tug. "Who does he think I am?!" She screeched. "I've been going out on my own for my entire _life!_ I don't need _some man_ to hide behind at all times!" And with that, as Vegeta remained sealed away with the gravity machine, Bulma disappeared into the bedroom. It took only only two minutes for her to change into a clean set of clothes and run a brush through her hair.

Soon after she was outside, climbing into the driver's seat of her deep green hover car. "I'll be back before he's done with his workout, _anyway!"_ She huffed as she started the engine.

Vegeta, who had set the gravity machine to 150 for the first time, was completely distracted as Bulma took off into the sky...

.

The town was about forty minutes away in her hover car, which Bulma was no longer accustomed to driving. She had grown used to the higher speeds on her pink jet, and as a result she had underestimated her arrival time...

"Wow, it took nearly an hour..." She commented as she landed her car. "Maybe Vegeta really _will_ be done training by the time I get back." Regardless, she hopped out and capsulated the car in a swift motion before turning to get a look at the town.

Shops were lit and filled with people, and civilians were all strolling down the sidewalks beside her. _'It's been so long since I've been out in public!'_ She thought excitedly, a wide beam spreading across her face. _'This is great!'_

The calm, every day manner in which the citizens were going about their time was rubbing off on Bulma as she strolled past a line of stores. To see such lively activities made her nearly forget about the impending doom that had been lurking in the back of her mind.

_It just felt so good to be shopping again!_

Quickly she was lost in an old routine of admiring fashions that were on display in store windows, mentally calculating the prices in her head to determine how much she could reasonably spend on a few luxury items.

After strolling up and down the main street and scanning the store windows for nearly an hour, the Bluehead settled on one particular store that was sporting several sets of rather soft looking fur coats. "This might come in handy if we end up in another ice land!" Bulma commented under her breath. Images of a few days earlier were replaying in her mind, and the idea of having had a thick fur coat to snuggle under left the Bluehead reaching for her wallet before even stepping inside.

It was just when she put her hand on the door handle that she began to hear a familiar whistling sound in the sky overhead, and Bulma groaned. " _Great. Here comes Vegeta."_ She sighed, letting go of the door and stepping back out onto the street to wait for his impending arrival. She had thought that she'd surely have a few more hours to herself before the saiyan discovered that she had left, but this man _was_ full of surprises…

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the latest installment. I know I ended on a bit of a cliffhanger, but I just couldn't help it. I have some fun interactions planned for the next chapter, so I can't wait to get that one typed up!


	19. Vegeta's Responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter...
> 
> Fearing the worst for her parents, Bulma has an emotional breakdown after Vegeta leaves her alone in her plane to evaluate an interesting power level he traces during their travels. The ki he feels turns out to be Piccolo, who Vegeta immediately feels insulted by when he's told that Gohan has strong potential. Despite this, the Saiyan agrees to take Gohan to Bulma, knowing that it will brighten her mood.
> 
> Bulma is cheered up after being reunited with Gohan, but her happiness doesn't last after she learns that Chi-Chi has been killed, and the boy is now receiving training from Piccolo. Despite her fears, she knows that they have to work together to stand a chance against the teenagers that are causing destruction all across the world. She offers the gravity room to Piccolo - much to Vegeta's vexation. Piccolo hints that he is considering her offer, but still wants to train with Gohan for another week before taking her up on it.
> 
> Feeling as if his authority and knowledge of combat is being belittled, Vegeta vows to spend the next week training harder than ever so he can take them by surprise when they finally return.
> 
> Still recovering from everything she has gone through emotionally, Bulma tells Vegeta that she is too stir crazy to stay in the house while he trains. Even though he tells her not to, she takes off to the nearest town as soon as he locks himself into the gravity room...

 

* * *

"What's with these damned things?"

Vegeta had been in the gravity room for about twenty minutes, and he was getting fed up. The training bots that he had grown accustomed to using weren't running anywhere near the capacity he'd come to expect. Despite the fact that the saiyan was maneuvering at 50 levels higher than ever before, he was still able to dodge and outrun the robots with far too much ease.

But _why?!_

With how hard it was to swiftly move in this new gravity level, those robots should be beating his ass!

 _Why_ were they working with such sluggish speed?!

Growing increasingly frustrated, Vegeta opened his palm and fired a shot at one of the robots. It was typical that the bot would swiftly fly out of the way to dodge the attack, before bolting at top speed for the saiyan in retaliation. However, this time no such thing happened. Instead, the machine didn't even attempt to shield itself before taking the blast head on. A low groan rumbled from the mechanisms inside its shell, and the robot consequentially slid down to the floor.

"What are you doing?!" Vegeta snapped. Clad in only his training pants, sweat was dripping down his chest as he marched to the robot. He prodded the chunk of metal with his foot, but the bot just groaned even more loudly. It was then that the saiyan turned to look around the room, and he noted that all four robots were laying limply on the tile as they painfully buzzed in protest.

Overwhelmed with the need to hit something, the saiyan marched for the control panel and slammed his hand down on the power button. In an instant the resistance ceased, and all of the robots immediately fell silent.

As Vegeta considered this, he suddenly remembered something that Bulma had told him after she'd presented the gravity room to the saiyan in the first place.

" _You can even use the bots in here if you'd like, but I'll have to reinforce their bodies if you want to set the gravity level fairly high!"_ She had squealed as she'd jumped up and down in celebration of the project's success.

"That's it!" The saiyan snapped. Evidently, these robots could not withstand 150x Earth's gravity. They needed to be upgraded in order to work under such strain! Exasperated with this setback, yet pleased that there was already a known solution, Vegeta began to storm out towards the house so he could inform Bulma of her newest task.

But when he walked inside the house, calling out her name and receiving no response, the saiyan's mood soured even more.

"Woman!" He shouted, receiving utter silence in return. There wasn't a scoff, nor a shuffling of feet in his direction. Not even an irritated _"my name is not_ _ **Woman**_ _!",_ as Bulma was so quick to snap when he called her such a thing.

"Are you kidding me?" Vegeta growled. "She actually left!"

He hadn't been tracing her ki at this point, not wanting any distractions while he focused on sparring with the battle bots. But he was reaching out now, and he could feel her. Just as he'd suspected, she was steadily moving farther away with each passing second. She didn't seem to be in any distress – she actually seemed to be quite the _opposite_ of upset... Yet this was no comfort to Vegeta.

The town she was heading towards seemed to be safe at the moment. There were no fearful auras or implications of terror. But that didn't mean that it wouldn't start at any moment. Those teenagers were untraceable, and there was no telling where they would strike next…

"Is she mad?!" He barked, his voice echoing through the empty halls. "It's as if she's _trying_ to piss me off!"

The saiyan ran to the bedroom to fish through the duffle bag. In it he found what he recognized as the small hand-purse that contained the senzu beans. He then found himself a shirt to quickly throw over his head. Then, with another growl of irritation, the saiyan was shooting off into the sky …

.

The entire time he was flying, the saiyan kept himself locked in on Bulma's ki. Cursing her and the world they were residing on for how idiotic and dangerous it all was, Vegeta was beside himself. Chewing on his lip as he flew as fast as he could, Vegeta was anxious that at any given moment he might suddenly feel her life aura spike - just as all of the other victims had...

"Stupid!" He spat, wind slapping his face as he pushed himself as fast as he could. "That damned stupid woman is _trying_ to get herself killed!"

How dare she specifically disobey a direct order? How _dare_ she so blatantly disregard any concept of personal safety?! If he managed to catch up to her before something happened, he'd make sure she knew _just_ how unacceptable her actions really were!

His aggravations only heightened when he found her and saw that she was okay. Standing in the middle of a busy street and looking up at the sky as if she'd been expecting his arrival. Men and women were walking past her as they bustled towards their daily routine, but Bulma paid no attention to any of them. She simply looked up at the saiyan with a knowing grin on her face as she batted her eyelashes innocently.

It wasn't until Vegeta's feet touched the ground that the civilians seemed to pay any notice to him. All at once the road filled with screams as the bystanders scattered for cover, yet the smile never left the Bluehead's face.

"Witch!" One man was shouting.

"Demon!" Another civilian cried.

"Hi, Vegeta!" Bulma beamed. She threw her hands up in the air and shrugged at him, a look on her face that said _'well, you found me. Oh well!'_

"What are you doing here?!" He barked, immediately marching for her and grabbing her by the arm.

"I'm going shopping!" Bulma replied, jerking herself out of his grip and back to her side. "Just like I _told_ you I was!"

"You are not!" Vegeta hissed, grabbing her again. This time he made sure to hold her tightly, and when she attempted to pull away again his fingertips dug into her skin. "Stop it..." She gasped. "You're starting to hurt me."

"You think _this_ hurts?" He hissed. "How do you think it will it feel if a hole is blown into your rib by one of those fiends!?"

"They aren't here, are they?" She shot back. She was starting to wince as she struggled against his grip. As Vegeta watched her, the Bluehead's eyes tensing with her dropping mood, he considered her expression. She had looked so _pleased_ when he'd first arrived - so carelessly and wholeheartedly _happy_... It was a mood that was rare for her – for even when she was content, there was always a woe weighing in the back of her mind. Especially in the recent days, such a carefree face had been seemingly nonexistent on this Bluehead…

Before he even knew it, Vegeta's fingers were loosening around her arm.

Even her ki had been _happy_. She had felt _so_ peaceful just a few seconds ago! In the moments before Vegeta's arrival, she had been even happier than she was when she had been doting over Gohan... And now it was all quickly dissipating – fleeting - and it was all because of the saiyan's griping words...

"I want to buy a coat!" Bulma was huffing, though she had stopped resisting against Vegeta's hold. There was an ache that was forming in her eyes now, but this was not from his grip on her arm. It was a look of defeat. The sign that she knew her retorts would only be in vain. "And if you aren't going to do it with me, then just let me go by myself!" She scowled, though she looked as if there was no point to arguing. "I make my _own_ decisions, you know!"

"You may dictate your actions, but I'll be _damned_ if I'm letting you waltz into your own death trap!" Vegeta hissed. Still, he let go of her and stepped back. Even as he mentally yelled that taking such risks was beyond idiotic, the saiyan crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a slight nod.

"That's what I thought!" Bulma huffed triumphantly, but she seemed taken aback that he had so quickly changed his tone. Yet the sparkle was already starting to return to her face, and she quickly seemed to forget about the power struggle that had only occurred a few seconds earlier. "Hey! You know, I bet you'd look great in a leather jacket."

"No!" Vegeta scowled. "I don't know what _leather_ is, and I don't care."

"Come inside, and I'll show you!"

"I will do no such thing, Woman! I'm staying right here!"

"But it would go so well with your hair-" Bulma started, but she paused. "Wait, why aren't you coming inside?"

"Because _somebody_ needs to keep watch." The saiyan folded his arms over his chest. " _Someone_ needs to stand guard and offer defense in case the place falls under attack!"

"Oh! That's right!" Bulma clapped Vegeta on the back, which had the saiyan gurgling under his breath. "Okay! I'll make it real quick!" And, with that, she went scurrying into the shop. "Thanks, Vegeta!"

Hissing an incomprehensible response, Vegeta glowered down at his feet as he listened to the shop's door slamming shut.

Feeling confused, the townfolk around him had slowly started to resume with their daily activities. They had been watching the event unfold, but they had all seemed to come to the conclusion that they were merely witnessing some strange type of lover's quarrel.

"So, _is_ he a witch?" One man asked another as he stepped towards the bucket he'd dropped.

"I think so." The other man replied. "But as long as we don't offer him leather, I think we're probably safe..."

.

" _I'll make it real quick_ , she said!" Vegeta spat, looking down at his shadow on the sidewalk. "It's been nearly an hour! What is that woman doing in there?!"

The villagers, who had initially been petrified of Vegeta, had seemed to have forgotten about him completely by this point. None of them paid him any mind as he stood in front of the coat shop, looking up and down both sides of the street and listening intently for any indication that the area might be suddenly falling under attack.

Judging by Bulma's ki, she was back to her earlier state of absolute bliss as she remained locked away in that shop. It didn't seem she was being held against her will, nor did it seem that she was caught in some type of altercation that might be preventing her from leaving. She was just mindlessly shopping, with no regard to the time or how long she was making Vegeta wait!

Perhaps it was the mere serenity of her presence that kept the saiyan from losing his temper and barging into the store to demand that they leave. For, rather than doing just _that,_ Vegeta simply folded his arms over his chest and bit the inside of his cheek. "What is she doing - buying the entire store?!" He growled, and it was in that precise moment that the shop's door finally opened. A bell attached to the door rang as the Bluehead stepped out, and Vegeta whirled around at the sound of it.

There he saw Bulma, her blue eyes sparkling at him as they seemed to glow an even deeper hue than he was used to. Her arms were filled with paper bags, which audibly crinkled as she stepped towards him.

"You really _did_ purchase the entire store!" The saiyan groaned, and Bulma simply shrugged at his observation.

"It turns out they were having a great sale!" She explained, nodding giddily as she looked down to admire her haul of items. "I got a bunch of new clothes, which is great because I was worried I'd eventually run out. Oh! And I went ahead and got you the leather jacket I was talking about!"

"Mrrrrrrmmm..." Vegeta slapped a palm over his face, shaking his head into his hand.

"Yeah, yeah. You say that now, but just wait 'til we get back home and you try it on!"

"Speaking of." Vegeta pulled his hand down. "Let's go. We need to get back. I have something I need you to address."

"Not yet!" Bulma chimed. She sounded so incredibly bubbly as she said this, despite the firmness of her retort. "Let's look at some more stuff while we're out!"

"Woman, we need to-" Vegeta began, but his words were cut off at the sensation of her warm figure leaning into his side. She wrapped her arms around one of his own, breathing happily as she pressed her cheek into her bicep. "Vegeta…" She said slowly. "We aren't too far from the house, and we don't know how long it will be before I get to do something like this again... So let's just stay a little longer, okay?"

_Damnit!_

He'd been trying to remain stern, but suddenly all the saiyan could think of was the state of morose that Bulma had been in as of late. How she had been so beside herself the night before that she'd gone to bed without even wanting to talk to him. How distressed she'd been over her parents, how melancholy she looked when Vegeta saw her in the plane after returning from his meeting with Gohan and Piccolo… She most likely would immediately revert to that state upon retreating back to the house... And Bulma didn't even know _just_ how right she was about this being a rare course of events… There might never _be_ another chance for her to shop in this town again… If he denied her of this now, she might never let him live it down…

"Fine!" The saiyan cracked. "But next time I say we need to go, you _will_ listen. And stop holding me like that! People might see!"

"You mean it?" Bulma breathed, her smile widening across her cheeks. She pulled away from him so she could look into his face. "Oh, Vegeta! I'm so excited! Let's go explore!"

She skipped a few meters ahead, setting her bags down on the sidewalk. She then stepped back from the bags, fishing about in her pocket now. If Vegeta hadn't already been spending so much time with this Woman, he might have asked her what she was doing leaving all of her newly acquired possessions on the dusty concrete like that.

But he knew what was coming. So, instead, a smug grin spread on his face as he watched.

In just a few seconds Bulma was throwing an empty capsule at the bags, causing them all to quickly dissipate from sight. "Now I won't have my arms full the whole time we walk." She smiled, tucking the capsule into her pocket carefully.

"Of course," Vegeta replied. "We wouldn't want your muscles to get any strain, now would we?"

"You're trying to tease me, and it isn't going to work." Bulma scoffed back. "Come on, Vegeta! Let's go see what's on the next street!"

She ran ahead of him, so enthused that he thought she might click her feet together at any given moment. "Wait, Woman!" He called, not bothering to quicken his pace. "Don't go so far ahead. I need to be-"

"-Okay, okay, I get it." Her feet came to an abrupt skid on the concrete, locking in place. The Bluehead spun around to face the saiyan, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear. "You want to be nearby so you can protect me if anything happens."

"Just don't stay so far away." The saiyan muttered back. What she said was true, but the way she worded it made him sound _so_ fretful...

"Well then maybe _you_ should hurry up." Bulma replied now, raising a cocky brow. "I'm not going to drag my weight around all day, you know! Now come on!"

Vegeta's mouth dropped open at this. Visibly stunned, his left eyelid twitched as he registered all that was unfolding. Even though he had already decided to humor Bulma for the day, he still couldn't believe _just_ what he was actively getting himself into. This Woman's tone seemed to change with the wind. One moment she could be shaking with fear at the prospect of potential danger, and the next she was scoffing at the idea of destruction and talking down to the warrior prince himself. It seemed that there were two sides of her personality that were constantly in conflict, and for Vegeta this was frustratingly endearing.

Had this been anyone else – _anyone_ else - he would have been quick to grab them by the throat and slam them against the nearby light pole for trying to order him to do _anything._ Yet this was Bulma… and if anything, he was actually somewhat _amused_ by her demeanor. She was constantly proving to be a challenge for him, and she was one that he was smugly willing to accept.

And to add to all of this, the mere fact that she was getting so mouthy just showed how much better she really was starting to feel...

"Well?!" Bulma barked, but the smile was still on her face as she put an impatient hand to her hip.

Growling what sounded like a hate drabble about "mortals", Vegeta stepped a heavy boot forward. His foot hit the ground with enough force to kick pebbles of concrete up from the sidewalk, but Bulma didn't even flinch. "That's what I thought." She shrugged instead, turning to continue with her eager stroll through the town…

.

An entire hour had passed since Vegeta had begrudgingly agreed to Bulma's request to explore this meager town. She had been weaving in and out of shops to admire small trinkets that were on display in the windows, oggling over jewelry that the saiyan simply turned his nose at, and even stopping to engage in light-hearted chit-chat with the random townsfolk who would let her.

After chatting with one person in particular, Bulma had excitedly announced that they had told her that there was a hardware store a few streets away. "We should go!" She exclaimed to Vegeta, pulling him by the arm to gesture them towards the right direction. "I can pick up some extra supplies!"

"Right." The saiyan replied, obediently following her lead. "Speaking of which, I need you to repair those robots when we get back. They aren't working anymore."

"Did you blow them up or something?" The Bluehead jested, not bothering to look at him as she continued her stroll.

"I _almost_ did!" He grunted with a smirk. "I have the gravity machine set to 150, and they can't seem to handle it. You need to fix them."

"Oh!" Was all Bulma replied. Vegeta watched the back of her head as she nodded. "I'll make sure to get supplies for that while we're out. I can also pick up what I need to make three new robots, too!"

"Very well." The saiyan grinned. The tone of his voice was so pleased that Bulma stopped walking so she could turn and shoot a smile at him. "See, Vegeta?" She said. "It _is_ a good thing we stayed out to explore a little more, isn't it?!"

"No." He grunted, quickly wiping the smirk from his cheeks.

" _Isn't it?"_ She repeated, dragging her words out slowly as she gave him a hard look.

"Whatever." He growled. "Just make sure you pick up everything you need. We need to head back afterwards."

"Fine." She said defiantly, turning to continue on her path. "I was actually about to suggest going back home, just so you know. I'm starting to get tired, _anyway._ "

And with that they continued to the hardware shop, with Vegeta taking on his assumed duty as a guard while Bulma gathered everything she needed inside. The saiyan was ready to grab her and start flying her back to the house at the precise _moment_ she returned outside… But as time passed, his focus began to fade.

It was actually an odor that happened to bring his mind to distraction, causing his stomach to stubbornly growl and leave Vegeta unable to think clearly. Suddenly he was being hit with an excruciating realization that he hadn't eaten all day, and no longer was he so fixated on the need to leave as quickly as possible.

When the door to the hardware store swung open and Bulma stepped out, she was already fishing in her pocket for the capsule to her car. "Well," She began. "I guess we can head back now-"

"Wait." Vegeta replied. He grabbed her arm and pulled her in, her body slapping against his own. The Bluehead's eyes widened in marked curiosity, but the saiyan wasn't looking at her as he gazed ahead. She held her breath, thinking that perhaps something serious was about to unfold.

Were the teenagers here? Had he been _right_ in his grim assumptions? _Should_ they have left earlier, when he had first urged them to?

Not wanting to speak and risk giving off their location, Bulma simply stared into the saiyan's dark eyes for any indication on what might be about to happen. Just when goosebumps began to form across her forearms, the saiyan finally spoke. "Hold on." He growled, his arms tightening around her waist.

"Wha-?" She breathed, but Vegeta was already taking off straight into the sky. Bulma gasped, her hair flying out with the wind that was suddenly clapping her in the face. "Veggie! What's going on?!" She shouted, but the saiyan didn't reply.

It seemed that just as soon as they had made it into the air, they were already landing. The saiyan's feet clapped down on the firm Earth before settling Bulma on her own. Feeling stunned, the Bluehead licked her dry lips and turned away from Vegeta so she could gain her bearings. "What?" She breathed, glancing around.

She thought that perhaps the saiyan was taking her back to the capsule house – that he had seen an opportunity to evade the danger of those barbaric kids. But they weren't at the house at all! In fact, they hadn't even left town. It appeared as if he'd simply flown them to another street!

"What is going on?!" Bulma hissed, turning back to Vegeta now. She was still pressed into his figure, though he was no longer holding her close. Clearly they weren't in imminent danger if he hadn't even bothered to leave the city limits. Yet his stiff posture indicated that he was in a _"no-nonsense"_ mood, leaving the Bluehead to believe that there was a reason she should feel on edge.

"Would you tell me what's going on?!" She griped, her cheeks reddening now. She hated to be left without answers when she was asking for them. She hated when he knew something that she didn't! "Vegeta, tell me! What's the matter?"

"Before we leave, I will feast." The saiyan finally replied, his stoneface refusing to crack.

"What?" Bulma's eyebrows rose, but Vegeta was already stepping away. It was then that the Bluehead turned to examine the street again, and she finally noticed exactly where they were. All around her the road was lined with various food vendors, selling different cooked goods from tents that they had set up. The saiyan was making a straight path for the nearest tent, his head held high as he marched.

"He and Goku really _are_ so much alike…" Bulma found herself whispering. Nearly overwhelmed with the relief that everything was okay, the Bluehead went running after him. She caught up to him just a few seconds after he arrived at the first vendor, and he was already yelling his orders at the poor man behind the counter.

"Listen here, you little pest!" Vegeta was barking. "You WILL give me all of your prepared goods, or I'll blow this entire place to oblivion!"

"Hey, hey…" Bulma interjected, making her presence known. She put a hand on the saiyan's bicep, trying to calm his mood. With a knowing smile, she shook her head before offering an apologetic shrug to the vendor – whom was wearing a nametag that said _Oshi_. "You'll have to excuse him, he gets cranky when he's hungry…" She explained, digging into her pocket for her wallet. "We'll take everything you have. I'll pay."

After seeing the cash that the Bluehead cheerfully handed him, Oshi seemed far less perturbed by Vegeta's harsh attitude. He had been one of the witnesses to believe that Vegeta might be a witch after seeing his arrival earlier that day. If, as the Bluehead had explained, witches get hostile without food, then Oshi was certainly eager to feed him. It seemed that it would be good luck to offer resources to a moody witch, didn't it? And it was especially enlightening to be receiving as much money that he made in a week with only one transaction.

After watching the witch scarf down his entire meal in only a few minutes' time, Oshi waved goodbye to the bizarre couple as they trailed away from the tent.

"Bye!" The Bluehead called as they stalked away.

"Goodbye!" Oshi called back, thinking he must be the luckiest man to have had such a fortune bestowed upon him. The witch had chosen _his_ tent to eat at – and the business he'd received had been tremendous! "How luckyI am!" Oshi thought outloud, grabbing a wet rag. His shop had only been open for an hour, and already he was out of inventory and ready to close for the day. "Everyone else will be so _jealous!_ "

Little did Oshi know, though, that Vegeta's feast did not simply end at his shop. In fact, as Bulma tagged behind, the saiyan trailed to each and every food stall that was set up on that street. Demanding meals that the Bluehead was quick to pay for, Vegeta's stomach was much fuller than it had been in quite some time. He hadn't eaten this well since even arriving on Earth!

"You sure seem happy, Vegeta!" Bulma commented as the saiyan popped his last kebab into his mouth.

"Whatever." The saiyan replied after gulping down his meat. He'd never admit it, but he certainly _wasn't_ feeling _bad_ in that moment. His binge-eating fest had completely freed his mind of any aggravating thoughts, which had resulted in a rather calming effect for the saiyan. And his stomach felt so heavy and perfectly warm after chomping down on so much freshly cooked meat, too! It only added to his mood that Bulma's mindlessly pleasant aura had been wafting across his senses for hours, leaving him with a rather satisfying mindset as he felt her body sinking into his own.

"Are we ready to head back, then?" She was asking now, leaning into his side. She'd put her hand up to his bicep, her soft fingertips clapping into his rigid skin.

"Soon enough." He replied, reaching an arm out to wrap around her waist once more. "Hold on."

"Where are we going _now?"_ She replied. But she wrapped her arms around his form regardless, readying herself for another trip into the air. Just as she'd predicted, Vegeta took off without a word of explanation, this time actually flying the two away from the town. He didn't go too far, though, landing in the middle of the forest that was located just outside the city limits.

"What are we?" Bulma began, but her question trailed off as she began to examine their surroundings. Her far-vision was distorted by the trees that the two were surrounded by, with no trace of the village in sight.

"Where is your car?" Vegeta asked, not bothering to acknowledge her question.

"In its capsule - of course." The Bluehead said, reaching into her pocket to fish it out before looking up at the saiyan with a cocked eyebrow.

"Give it here." He said stiffly, holding his hand out.

Without a word, Bulma obliged. As soon as the capsule touched the palm of his hand, Vegeta was already throwing it out ahead. The car formed snugly between two trees, which nearly made Bulma cringe to see. But Vegeta had his fingers wrapped around her wrist and was pulling her to it, seeming to be unbothered by his own aim. "Come on."

As soon as they reached the vehicle Vegeta had already slung the backdoor open and was pushing Bulma inside.

The Bluehead landed on her back, her body bouncing into the bench seat with an "oomf". But before she could even open her eyes, the saiyan was already climbing on top of her. Pulling the door shut behind him in the same swift motion, the saiyan tried to maneuver himself into a position that didn't feel quite as claustrophobic in the narrow seat.

Without a word Vegeta was already pressing his lips into Bulma's, though he did not open his mouth to deepen the kiss. Feeling that she might not appreciate the taste of freshly chewed meat on his breath, he simply nipped at her lower lip before pulling away to address lower parts of her body.

The two didn't even exchange words as he moved his face down to the crook of her neck, an air of urgency suddenly doing all of the communicating for them. The Bluehead's pale fingers were running up his back to find his shoulder blades, her nails dragging across his shirt as if searching for a way to break through the fabric.

The saiyan, who was already fighting with the button of Bulma's pants, let out a hiss in response to her enthusiasm. Pulling his hand away from her pants so he could cup one of her breasts, Vegeta groaned as he nudged himself against her lap.

This caused a shallow gasp to escape the Bluehead's lips, her fingers pressing deeper into his shoulders, as she bucked against his hips. She could feel his excitement pressing against her through the fabric of their pants, teasing her as her moved.

Palming her shirt up to expose her bosom, Vegeta was slowly continuing to thrust against Bulma's lap as she panted. Her fingers were underneath his shirt now, her nails dragging along his spine as she closed her eyes and threw her head back. He was nipping at her collar bone now, fidgeting with the button of her pants again before finally sliding them down her thighs…

… The windows were quickly becoming foggy from the heat of their bodies and the humidity of their breaths. One who was walking by wouldn't have necessarily needed to see through the windows to know what was going on inside, though. For the rocking of the car, steadily increasing in pace as the two became utterly consumed with passion, was a telling sign…

… Vegeta was cupping Bulma's face in his hands, his eyes clamped shut when he came to his release. The Bluehead, who had already reached her peak, had been panting to catch her breath when the saiyan sank into her sweaty form with one last thrust. He was breathing heavily, nearly choking on the shallow air of the enclosed car, his body growing steadily more limp as the seconds passed.

Feeling as if fresh air might benefit the both of them, Bulma managed to reach up and click the button on the side of the door. The window let out a low humming sound as the glass slid down, a gust of cool wind blowing inside the steamy car.

"That was a surprise." She finally gulped, running her tongue across her dry lips. "I... I wasn't expecting that."

"Was it." Vegeta replied, his response coming out more as a statement that a question. "I wasn't planning that, either."

"So the urge just blindsided you, then?" She replied, but a smile was lacing her cheeks. She was teasing him, but Bulma wasn't complaining. "You should let me have more control sometimes, you know."

"What?" The saiyan groggily asked. He was pulling himself out of her now, raising himself carefully above her body as he did so.

"I like being under you, but you're so bulky. I can hardly move at times." Bulma continued, her eyes drifting shut as she reveled in the gust of air that was still wafting in through the opened window.

"I see…" Vegeta muttered. He lifted a hand to wipe some of the sweat from his eyes, looking down at the Bluehead who was now serenely drifting to sleep in the afterglow of their encounter. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled the both of them over, so that he was now on his back while she lay on top of him. "Like this?" He breathed, noting how deeply her cheek was pressing into his right pectoral.

Bulma, who was on her stomach as she lay on the saiyan, simply nodded her head against his skin. "Yeah… Like that…" Her arms were lightly clasping his sides…

Vegeta knew she was already asleep. It was amazing that she was capable of such a thing in a situation like this, where their hot skin was sticking to the feaux leather seats, and the air was still so shallow. The car had sufficed for their random throw of passion, but it was certainly anything _but_ comfortable…

The saiyan closed his eyes, listening to Bulma's steady breathing as her body sank deeper into his form. His hand went to the back of her head, where he ran a few fingers through her silky blue strands…

He decided that, even if it was only for a few minutes, Vegeta would let Bulma sleep…

.

The sound of leaves blowing in the wind stirred Vegeta, and he opened his eyes to see that night must have fallen some time ago. Inside the car it was completely dark, with only a faint light illuminating his view. Looking down, the saiyan saw that Bulma was still laying against his form, absolutely oblivious to the world around her and she continued to dozed.

His spine was aching from laying in such a compromising position for so long, and Vegeta arched his back to release some of the tension. There was no telling what time it was, but from how dehydrated and groggy he felt, the saiyan thought that they could have been asleep for five hours.

It went without saying that they should return to the house as soon as possible, though the saiyan knew that they'd probably just go straight to bed once they got there. "Hey…" He muttered, pressing his palm into the Bluehead's shoulder. "Bulma… Wake up…"

The Bluehead groaned softly. Evidently, she wasn't as inclined to open her eyes as the saiyan had been. Her body stiffening on top of him, she rolled her head to its opposite side as she swallowed in a breath of air.

"Wake up." Vegeta repeated, clapping her shoulder now. "We need to get back…"

"Mm- _hmm…_ " Bulma replied, though her voice was raspy as she came to from her dreams. "Just give me a minute…"

She'd been saying this to him all day.

No matter how many times Vegeta had mentioned that they needed to return to the capsule house, Bulma always had a retort. Rolling his eyes, the saiyan made to sit up. Whether she was ready or not, this time they really _were_ going to go back.

Vegeta was about to tell Bulma this, but a sudden loud rustling sound outside the car left his mouth silent. His senses flared to life as he furrowed his brows, listening carefully to what it might be.

It was the sound of footsteps approaching the car, branches crunching under the feet of whoever was coming towards them. Suddenly on edge, Vegeta's fingers tightened around the Bluehead to warn her that she should stop making so much noise. Bulma, who had been stretching against the saiyan as she woke, seemed to get the message. She immediately fell into a hush as well, her body falling limp and still as the two listened to what was going on outside.

Cursing himself for not making them return as soon as he'd found her, Vegeta grit his teeth. He could hear the voices outside, and he knew too well that it was the exact two people he'd been trying to keep the Bluehead away from...

"What's a piece of crap doing here in the woods, Eighteen?" The first one said. "Seems like a random place for someone to just dump a car."

"Who cares." Eighteen's bored tone replied. It sounded as if they were standing just outside the vehicle. The crunching of their footsteps had come to a pause, and Vegeta silently turned to see their silhouettes hovering in front of the dashboard. The saiyan tightened his grip around Bulma, trying to communicate to her how serious the situation was.

"So, you think we should wait, or do it now?" Eighteen was asking. The vehicle dipped slightly towards the front, as one of them sat down on the hood of the car.

"We'll wait until sunrise." Seventeen was replying. "More people will be awake then. It'll be more fun."

"Yeah, but if we attack that town now, it'll only add to the element of surprise." Eighteen responded thoughtfully. "They'll all be asleep. Nobody will be expecting it."

"True…" Seventeen commented. "But they'll put up more of a fight if we wait. They'll all be too stupid to do anything now. They probably won't even try to run. It'll be too easy. Where's the fun in that?"

"God, you're so boring!" Eighteen snapped, irritation lining her typically cool voice. The car lifted as she stood from its hood. "I'm tired of you being so strategic all the time! I don't feel like waiting, Seventeen! I want to do it _now!"_

_Shit!_

Vegeta wasn't yet ready to confront those two kids again. Not with the Bluehead around! She was too much of a target to those teenagers!

The saiyan's hand had found the back of Bulma's head again, and his fingers were curling against her scalp as he held her firmly against him. Evidently, Seventeen and Eighteen hadn't noticed that they were inside this car yet. If Vegeta and Bulma played it carefully, then they might be able to get out of this without an altercation. They just needed to remain silent and wait for the kids to leave…

"What are we supposed to do until sunrise, anyway!" Eighteen was griping now. "I'm _bored_ , Seventeen. I don't want to _wait!"_

"Fine." Seventeen replied. "We're still going to wait, but we'll find something to do to keep us occupied. How does that sound?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, we can play with this ugly hunk of metal, can't we?"

"Hey, you're right!" Eighteen replied. "Okay. This time, you'll be the one who blasts it, and I'll punch. I wonder how many times I can land a hit on this car before it explodes. What was my record, again? Twelve?"

Vegeta's eyes widened. Without even thinking his hand clamped into Bulma's hair so hard that she let out a squeal, jolting from the force of it.

"What was that?" Eighteen's voice was now ringing. "Sounded like somebody's _in_ there."

"Yeah, you're right. See, what did I say? We really _can_ find things to keep us occupied until sunrise."

_Shit._

Vegeta sat up quickly, holding Bulma against him with one arm. They'd been discovered. There was no way out of this now!

"Look, there's even _two_ of them in there!" One of the teenagers was shouting now, though the saiyan was too distracted to distinguish which one it had been. He kicked open the door to the car, pulling the Bluehead out with him as he charged from the metal frame.

"Hey!" Seventeen was shouting. "It's that guy again!"

The Bluehead was clutching Vegeta frame as he flew. She was too stunned to say anything, her body shivering as the wind hit her naked skin. The saiyan was racing through the air as quickly as he could, but he knew too well that those teenagers would easily catch up to him. But he needed to try – he needed to get Bulma to a place where they wouldn't find her…

"Come back!" Seventeen was calling now. "We want to play!"

A snarl on his face, Vegeta opened his palm to fire a blast out behind him, though he knew it would easily be dodged. He heard the consequential explosion as the blast went directly into the car. The heat of the blast was warming his skin as he continued to race away, but the saiyan refused to look behind to see if he had gotten one of the kids.

"Now, that wasn't very nice." A voice suddenly quipped, and it was so loud that the saiyan came to an abrupt stop. Less than a meter in front of him, Eighteen was floating at eye-level as she looked him over.

"Get away from me, you harpy!" The saiyan snarled, his grip tightening around Bulma. But the blonde simply placed her hands to her hips. " _Harpy?_ _ **Me?**_ " She shrugged. "Well, maybe. But at least _I'm_ actually wearing clothes…"

"What did he call you?" Seventeen's voice rang from behind. Vegeta whirled around to see that the boy was directly behind him now, the two teenagers having closed in on him from both directions.

This was _too_ familiar… This was exactly what had happened last time…

"I don't know how you're still alive after our last match." Seventeen continued. "But it _was_ pretty fun. I don't mind killing you again."

"But first…" Eighteen chimed in, and that's when Vegeta felt a hot surge of air hitting him in the side.

His vision seeming to fade into black and white, all color leaving his pupils.

He felt as the weight of the Bluehead's body evaporated, his eyes widening at the sound of the blast.

Where he had been holding Bulma to his body, there was now a burning sensation instead. The saiyan didn't even need to turn in order to see what had just happened.

 _She_ had been hit.

That fucking blonde bitch had taken Bulma out…

His mouth dropped open as he turned to see the bloody mess of human remains that were melting into his arms, and Vegeta felt his lungs starting to quiver.

"There. Now we can _really_ have fun." Eighteen was saying now. "You'll be more fun to play with if you aren't carrying a naked whore…"

"No…" Vegeta breathed. Looking down at his hands, which were dripping with blood, the saiyan was too stunned to move. "No…"

"Aw, look. You already broke him." Seventeen was commenting. "Eighteen, you shouldn't have killed that girl yet. We could have used her to torture this guy."

"No…" The saiyan was repeating. There was a warm sensation quivering in his chest, his biceps trembling at the thought that the Woman was actually gone. He should have left her in the car. He should have jumped out and taken these two on, tried to steer them away from the vehicle!

But would it have been any use? She was easily a sitting target in that car. One failed punch, and one of those kids could have thrown a blast at the vehicle that would have instantly killed her.

She'd been doomed either way.

"Whatever. Let's finish this creep off." Eighteen was saying now. "He's _so_ boring…"

"NO!" Vegeta snarled, closing his hands into fists. His skin felt as if it was on fire. The color was coming back to his vision, but now he was only seeing red. "NO!"

"What the?" Seventeen said, wincing at the bright light that was hitting him in the face.

The saiyan's screams had morphed into a loud, incoherent growl. Flashes of yellow were blinding him, his muscles feeling as if they were being ripped apart. All he could focus on was releasing this energy that was coursing through his veins, his yells continuing as they echoed across the night sky.

.

" **NO!"**

Vegeta sat up so abruptly that Bulma went rolling onto the car's floor. "Ow!" She groaned, still only half awake despite the violent outburst.

The saiyan, still a sweaty mess, was panting as he looked around. He was still laying on the backseat of the car, and the light shining in through the windows was nearly blinding.

"What's _wrong?_ " The Bluehead groaned, trying to pull herself out from the awkward position she was laying in. Her foot was curled underneath one of the car's front seats, her head pressing into floor. "What was _that_ for?"

"A dream…" The saiyan gasped, turning to take a look at Bulma. Feeling clammy, he pulled himself up and immediately opened the car door. After finding his footing on the grass, he took Bulma's arm and helped her up. "It was only a dream…"

"What dream?" She snapped, her cheeks turning red now. "What the hell could you have possibly dreamed of that would make you shove me like that?!"

But Vegeta didn't reply. The Bluehead was standing before him naked, and she was glaring at the saiyan with marked exasperation. Rubbing an ache from her side, Bulma was scowling at Vegeta as if he'd hurt her on purpose.

Her eyes were looking so deeply _blue_ as she glared at him, her hair so amazingly knotted and worn.

"Well?!" She barked, but Vegeta didn't care to elaborate on his strikingly realistic dream.

"We need to go back." Was all he said. "We need to go back right _now."_

"I get that, but why-"

"Bulma." He put a hand to her face, still staring into her blue orbs. His touch was so gentle, and it was enough to make her cease in her attempt at interrogation. "Trust me." He said, leaning closer to her. "We will not procrastinate anymore. You are my responsibility, and I am saying that we need to leave."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait in publishing this one. It's a little bit of a filler, but I felt that Bulma needed a break from her woes for a bit. I read the comments, and I know most of you thought it would be the Androids who were coming for her. Trust me, this girl will not have it easy in future chapters, but it isn't time for that yet. ;)
> 
> Despite the long wait, I hope you enjoyed the little impromptu-date that Vegeta and Bulma had in this chapter. I'll try not to let as much time pass before I post the next one. And it won't be a filler, either!


	20. Rising Tensions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter...
> 
> Still recovering from everything she has gone through after having an emotional breakdown about her parents, Bulma expresses to Vegeta that she is too stir crazy to stay in the house while he trains. Even though he tells her not to, she takes off to the nearest town as soon as he locks himself into the gravity room.
> 
> Vegeta isn’t training for too long, since the battle bots Bulma made cannot withstand 150 level gravity. He goes inside the house to tell her she needs to upgrade them, but nobody is there to answer. Once he realizes she has left, Vegeta takes off after her. Worrying that the town she is visiting may come under attack at any moment, he tells Bulma that they need to head back immediately after he finds her. However Bulma, who is now using shopping and tourism to distract herself from her worries, is feeling too carefree to want to go back. In that moment she is able to let herself forget of how quickly her life has turned upside down, and she insists that she wants to stay and explore the town - if only for a few more hours.
> 
> Vegeta realizes that he can’t bring himself to make her unhappy. He is surprised to find that he is so entranced by Bulma’s lightheartedness that he begrudgingly agrees to stay in town with her, to his lack of better judgment. 
> 
> Though he has agreed to Bulma staying for a while longer, he is unhappy about it and makes it known whenever he gets the chance. After a day of watching her shop and explore, he discovers a street that is filled with food stalls and he excitedly leads Bulma to it. 
> 
> He spends the next while visiting each stall and consuming all the food they have, while Bulma follows behind to pay the bills. Having eaten better than he has during his entire time on Earth, Vegeta is actually starting to enjoy himself. Feeling so invigorated by his meal and infatuated to see Bulma so happy, he whisks her away to a secluded area in the woods where they make love before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
> 
> The cheerfulness doesn’t last when Vegeta has a horrific nightmare about the “teenagers” finding them in the woods. Not even realizing it’s a dream, he watches in horror as they kill Bulma in front of him and mock her death. A rage unlike anything he’s felt starts to build within, but before he is able to unleash it he wakes up in a fit. 
> 
> The fact that it was a dream is hardly a comfort to Vegeta, who understands how likely such a thing is to actually happen. Angry at himself for not having done more to avoid such an danger, he puts his foot down and tells Bulma they are going to head back to the Capsule House immediately.

* * *

 

Reaching both arms over her head, Bulma sighed as she eased into a long winded stretch. It had been a few days since her and Vegeta's episode in the town, and she had been working on upgrading the battle bots during all of her time since.

Ever since waking up in such a frantic state while they napped in the car, the saiyan had been nothing short of a temperamental mess. Finding any excuse to start yelling about how stupid it was for her to go into the village without him, Vegeta had been keeping a close eye on the Bluehead and finding any excuse to breaking into exasperated gripe whenever he could.

And, when Vegeta was keeping a close eye on Bulma, it was _really_ close.

His determination to blindside Piccolo during their next meeting, combined with whatever the saiyan had dreamed about that had made him get so worked up, had left Vegeta spending nearly every hour of the conscious day training in the gravity room. But, almost as if he had a timer that would go off at the exact second, every 20 minutes he would stalk out to check on Bulma. During one of these check-ins, when the Bluehead had pointed out how irritating this behavior was, Vegeta had claimed that he was doing such a thing to make sure that she was still tucked inside the capsule house - and not flying away again in her deep green car.

While Bulma might have normally considered this level of concern to be an irritating token of infatuation, the rash words he would use were effective in stripping any care from that gesture. On this instance in particular, Vegeta had immediately gone into an explicative rant about how she needed to make progress more quickly – all while simultaneously lamenting about how _he_ couldn't get anything done when he was having to constantly check on her.

It was maddening.

To Bulma, the saiyan's ballistic focus was nothing more than excessively cocky micromanagement.

"Vegeta, you seriously _need_ to get off my ass!" She had said during his latest visit. "I'm working as fast as I can, _and_ I know what I'm doing. I don't need you coming in here three times an hour to reprimand me!"

"That's what I would have liked to think, but you obviously can't be trusted to stay put." He spat back. "It's a pity I'm forced to hover over you as if you're a child just to make sure you don't run off and get yourself killed."

"For the last time, I am _not_ going to get myself killed!" The Bluehead groaned. "I'm _not_ going to run off! You know, I don't need to listen to this! You agreed to let me spend the day in town, didn't you?! Why are you holding it against me now!"

"I only _agreed_ after your numerous acts of disobedience." He spat. "I told you not to go in the first place, and I said multiple times after that to stop what you were doing and head back. Don't try to portray _me_ as a hypocrite, Woman. You shall not win."

"Oh, for the love of all holy Kami..." Bulma leaned forward over her desk as she began to massage her furious temples. Her head was starting to ache just from the indignance of being reprimanded so harshly. They'd been having the same repetitive arguments ever since they'd arrived back at the capsule house in the first place! She just didn't want to go through this yet again!

It had been three long days of this, and he was still so relentlessly infuriated with her, no matter what she said. Vegeta's temper was simply too stubborn to nudge. It was clear that he was going to remain mad for as long as he wanted to be, no matter how she tried to reason with him. All that Bulma could do was wait it out…

"You know what?" She finally sighed. "If you want to check and make sure I'm working every twenty minutes, like some needy little squirrel, then fine by me. But I've had enough with your comments. I don't need to hear them."

"I think _not_. If you didn't need to hear them, then you wouldn't have run off in the first place." The saiyan growled, but he went stalking out of the room nevertheless.

Now alone, the Bluehead sat with her arms outstretched above her head, trying to calm her mind enough that she could get back to the task at hand. It had been five minutes since the saiyan had retreated back into his little makeshift cave of exaggerated gravity, and Bulma knew she was on borrowed time before he came huffing back in again…

… It didn't matter if Vegeta was the brute effigy of a killing machine, with just as much of a fondness for food as he had for snogging. Bulma was pretty sure that, if he kept coming in and snapping at her multiple times per hour, she was going to find a way to lift him over her head and chuck him out the window…

"I need a break." She finally groaned. And as the words left her mouth, Bulma realized that this was the first time she was going to do such a thing since she'd started working on those battle bots three days earlier. The saiyan was keeping such a stark eye on her that she'd been compelled to work as hard as she could, just so she could get done sooner and he'd leave her the hell alone. Now she had finished a couple of them, and was in the last stage of upgrades for the rest. Despite how close she finally was to being finished, in that moment she had lost all motivation to continue.

Not until she addressed something else first.

She just _couldn't_ bring herself to finish them up right now – not with her mind racing the way it was. This had been the first time she had decided she needed to take a break, and it had also been the first time that she had realized she hadn't yet checked in on her parents' condition since sending her mobile camera to observe their home…

Realizing that there was simply no point in even trying to continue with her work now, Bulma pushed herself up from the desk. She quick-stepped towards the house's phone system, glancing over her shoulder as she went. As if Vegeta would be tracing behind her at any given second.

Confirming that the saiyan was, indeed, not walking in, Bulma tiptoed across the rest of the room before finding a seat at the large monitor.

A chill running down her spine, the Bluehead ran a hand through her hair before clicking the screen to life…

The fact that she had been so anxious to know of her parents' fate as she'd built the camera, and was now finally about to learn if they were even alive… It left the Bluehead holding her breath as she bit down on her lower lip. As distressed as she was with fearing the unknown, she almost didn't want to find out. All of the trepidation she had set aside during her work was hitting her again now, and it was quickly becoming overwhelming.

Clicking a few buttons to narrow in on the camera's coordinates, the screen began to light up as images began pummeling in. The Bluehead finally let out the deep breath of air she'd been holding, blinking stubbornly as she readied herself for what she might be about to see…

She knew very well, as her pupils curled up to glance into the monitor… That this could be a moment that would forever change her life…

.

"No, damnit! For the last time, don't hold back when the time comes to hit me!"

Piccolo had done it. He'd reached that a point that was far too routine in his sparring match with Gohan. It was inevitable that he would always come to this during their sessions together – the moment in which all patience finally ran out.

It seemed to happen every _single_ time they trained, and each time Piccolo found himself even more exasperated than the one before. On this day in particular, he was getting so furious that he was fighting the urge to throw his headscarf to the ground and stomp it into the dirt – something that would have seemed far too undignified for him if he'd been in his rightful mind. "We go over this every damned time!" He began to spit. The green of his face was turning several shades darker, his eyes turning red with bloodshot. " _STOP_ holding back!"

"But I..." Gohan began, but he was at such a loss of words that it felt as if there was no point in continuing. He'd expressed his apprehension to Mr. Piccolo many times before. His mentor knew exactly what his qualms were. What more could he say that hadn't already been discussed?

"Look. I know you don't want to hurt me, and I get that your father spoiled you. I know that up until now you've never had to put up a real fight in your entire life. But you're going to have to get over that!" The green man growled, trying to find the capacity to keep from losing his cool. This attempt seemed to be in vain, however, for his voice was crackling into a louder yell. "I need you to punch me and actually put some force into it!"

"I'm _trying!_ " Gohan exclaimed, feeling as if he were stuck in a corner with no way out. "Come on, Mr. Piccolo… I'm trying…"

"That isn't good enough, kid!" Piccolo fell back into his fighting position. "I know you have it in you, and you'd better let it out. I vouched for you to Vegeta, and I'll be damned if we give him another reason to doubt my word. The next time we see him you _will_ be prepared to face off with him in a match, and you're _going_ to win - got it?! Now, you and I will do this one more time, and you're _going_ to hit me"

"But-"

"Shut up with your whining!" Piccolo snarled. With Gohan's last attempt at backtalk, the mentor's patience had completely worn thin. His eyes were wide as he barked at the child, slight traces of foam forming at the sides of his mouth. "I don't know why you have so many issues with releasing your power, damnit! Let it out! Show me what I felt when I found you in the first place!"

"But I _can't!_ "

"Just DO IT!"

And that was that.

Piccolo abruptly launched for Gohan, moving so fast that the boy hardly had any time to react. He grabbed the boy by the shirt, swinging his arm back as if he were about to sling a ball through the air. "I know you were reacting to your mother getting killed when I found you. Whatever happened before and directly after that, I wasn't there to see, but you're going to have to relive it. Think of everything you saw that day, and remember it as vividly as possible. Use _that_ as your fuel. Remember how you felt and fight me! Whether you want to or not, you are _going_ to kick my ass!"

With that, Piccolo finally released his grip. Swinging his arm forward with all his might, Gohan went flying straight ahead as the air whistled around him. The child's eyes were clamped shut as the wind slapped him in the face. Everything Piccolo had just yelled was still registering in his head, the memories stubbornly being triggered back against his own will.

"I... can't..." He muttered, a cut forming in his arm as he sliced past a tree branch that had been in his path.

Truthfully, he didn't know what had made Piccolo determine that he was _so_ powerful. Nor did he remember anything after his mother got hit…

… All Gohan could remember, as the image painfully replayed in his mind, was the look that had been on her face when she was hit by that blast…

… There had been a distant glint that had formed in her pupils...

Her mouth, which had started to open as if to say something, had paused in mid-act. It was as if Chi-Chi, who had been standing her ground against those violent monsters, had quickly realized what was about to happen to her. Too shocked to speak, she had just stood there and watched as the light drew closer.

Gohan could remember far too vividly, as his lips began to tremble, the smell of charring flesh.

The nauseating odor that made him want to pull his hair out and slam his face into the soil to rid his mind from the burden of survival. He remembered, far too clearly, the scent of sizzling decay as Chi-Chi's skin burned to a melt, making his stomach twist in repulsion...

' _Not her,'_ Was what he had thought when it happened, and he was now thinking it again now. _Not her._

Anyone - _anyone._

It could have been _anyone_ else, so why did it have to be _her?_

She was the only person he'd had left... The only person he'd had in this entire world.

… She had been his best friend, his closest companion. The person he'd depended on since before he could remember. She'd been the one who he would have done anything to protect, and yet he'd failed her during his very first chance.

She'd always been there to wrap a warm blanket around his frame when he'd awoken after a terrible nightmare. She'd _always_ been there, for as long as he could remember, watching carefully from the distance as he totted through the long grass to catch snails or came running to the house after being chased by a confrontational wild dog. She'd been there after his father had died, as they both hugged each other on the couch during those long nights and whispered comforting words to one another.

Whenever she was upset she dictated a terrifying wrath… Yet, no matter what they might have argued about, her smile would always reassure him that together they'd get through anything…

How could he lose her?

He'd already lost his Dad, and now she was gone, _too?_

What would he do without her?

What was he _supposed_ to do?

How could he live without her?

She was his... She was _his…_

"MOTHER!"

Gohan's eyes snapped open.

He was quickly approaching another tree, this time much more center to his own head. But the boy didn't make out the green of the leaves as they grew closer to his tense body. The only color he could see was red.

The only thing he could smell was the metallic odor of fresh blood, the thought of which loosened his nauseated stomach, which instead now began to churn with a hunger unlike anything he'd ever felt.

And then, just as he was about to collide with the trunk of the tree, a flash erupted so bright that his vision evaded him altogether. No longer could he see the flooding crimson that hindered his pupils and left him feeling so suffocated. No longer could he make out anything at all, for the yellow surrounding him was so bright that it seemed as if his eyes would burn to a crisp if he didn't keep his lids shut.

For all he could comprehend, Gohan was suddenly lost in an abyss. He was being pulled away from any thoughts he could process, the white of his vision quickly dropping to a suffocating darkness...

… He hardly even heard the sound of the tree when it exploded around him.

.

Vegeta had been in the middle of a set of pushups, struggling against the level 175 gravity. The battle bots weren't yet ready, much to his frustration, but he was doing all he could to exert himself anyway. Yet, despite his efforts, now the saiyan was frozen in place. Temporarily forgetting about his resolution, he swallowed to keep from spitting on the floor he was propped up against.

Staring down at the tile as he held himself up in the middle of a set, the saiyan was panting when he felt the energy surging through him.

It was the same spike of ki he had encountered weeks earlier. The one that had taken him by surprise as he'd showered after the first time he'd slept with Bulma.

Here it was again? Vegeta had assumed that it had been another casualty. Someone who had been putting up an impressive fight before losing the battle with those two destructive kids. But no, that couldn't have been it. Not if he was sensing it now.

The ki didn't feel as if it was something that would be a challenge to Vegeta, and yet it was strong enough to peak his interest. Nobody on this planet should be as strong as this. Since arriving on Earth Vegeta hadn't encountered a single person - aside from Piccolo, who was obviously of a foreign species - whom had been so notable in aura.

Yet, after Vegeta had long ago assumed that the owner of the ki was dead, it was suddenly here again. It had come out of nowhere, and it was lingering in his senses. Yet the saiyan knew that if this would be anything like the last time, then it wouldn't be long before it disappeared again.

What struck Vegeta most of all was how _nearby_ it felt. Unlike last time, when it seemed as if it were quivering from the other side of the planet, this energy wasn't too far away. In fact, if he tried, the saiyan knew he had a chance of reaching the aura before it faded again.

Pushing himself to his feet and groaning against the pressure of the gravity, that was exactly what Vegeta intended to do. He didn't even bother to shut off the machine as he stumbled out, too fixated on hurrying to care. He was starting to have his suspicions on what this was, but he wanted to see it for himself. Vegeta needed to confirm the source of this impressive ki…

He _needed_ to get to it before the aura went away once more!

…However, just as the saiyan was about to jump into the air to commence his journey, it was suddenly gone.

 _Again_.

It hadn't lingered for nearly as long as it had the last time, but Vegeta had no doubt that it had been of the same source. His mind was piecing it all together as he considered the circumstances of everything, and it was doing nothing to lighten his already sour mood.

Feeling nothing short of aggravated, the saiyan let out a loud snarl of incomprehensible gibberish. This was all just getting worse by the second, wasn't it? He was angry enough with that damned Woman, who seemed to get incredible joy with finding ways to compromise his focus.

And now _this?_

As Vegeta felt his mind losing itself to his temper, the thought of Bulma was the one thing that managed to keep him sane – if only by just a thread. How long had it been since he'd made sure she was still working on those bots, anyway? He sighed and shook his head. Despite how upset he was with her, the thought of seeing her now seemed to be the only thing that would soothe his mind. Shaking his head, the saiyan began to march towards the house once for the thirtieth time that day.

.

The boy, so fearful and reluctant by nature, had changed again.

Just as he had been when Piccolo had met him, Gohan's ki had finally peaked. His typically docile hair had changed to a bright shade of yellow, the strands rising into an unforgiving cluster of spikes that could easily impale someone if the boy had the mind to do such a thing.

Piccolo had thrown himself back to prevent getting hit by the blunt of the explosion, and it came to no surprise when he looked up to see that Gohan was completely unscathed. This was only the second time that he'd seen the boy in such a state, and the mentor took note at how much more in control of himself the child seemed.

The trees that he had been flying through had been wiped from existence. And with one more scream Gohan fell to his knees, his ki quickly dissipating back to its normal level. His mouth hanging open as he caught his breath, the boy's cheeks were quivering to keep the tears from falling from his eyes. The two were nearly 100 meters apart at this point, and yet Piccolo heard him clearly when the boy muttered the words _"it isn't fair."_

Only a moment later Piccolo was hovering right above the boy. "The world isn't fair, kid. Didn't anyone tell you that by now?" He replied, though his tone was much less harsh than it had been a few minutes earlier.

"Mom used to say that all the time." Gohan replied, not looking up as his voice cracked. His head was dropped to his lap, and he ran a finger through the soil beside his body as he sat on his knees. "She used to always tell me that…" He muttered, struggling to comprehend such a high density of anguish that was racing across his mind.

"She was right." Was all Piccolo said back. He was peering down at the boy as he stood over him, trying to come to terms with the mixture of odd rapport that was bubbling within. There had been so many times when the boy's lack of emotional strength had driven him to a nearly mad state.

How in the _hell_ did the offspring of _Goku_ get to be so whiny and reluctant to do anything _close_ to sparring?

Why was it that every time Piccolo wanted the kid to put up a good fight against him, the boy would go into a trembling sob-story about how bad he felt to do such a thing?! It was _maddening!_

And yet, there were so many times in which Piccolo couldn't help the feeling that came over him as he tried to consider why the boy might have grown to be such a way.

Piccolo had been born _from_ nothing, had grown _with_ nothing but himself, and had lived with nothing more throughout his entire life.

But this kid?

This kid understood what it was to have _had._ He'd _**had**_ something – and it had been everything that seemed important to him. He knew more about the act of loss than Piccolo had ever experienced, and perhaps ever would.

It was often that Piccolo wanted to shake the kid and yell at him to get over it. He'd been lucky enough to have had his parents and home in the first place – hadn't he? The boy should have been glad for the time he'd gotten, and should move on instead of being selfishly insistent on focusing on feeling sorry for himself!

And yet, whenever he opened his mouth to say such a thing, the motivation to go on this rant would quickly evade him.

Why should Piccolo care if the boy wanted to be so damned morose all the time?

And why should he yell at the kid for going through something that he himself never had? Who was _he_ to tell the kid he was wrong in how he was handling things? Piccolo didn't have any experience in this – perhaps everything the boy was doing was what one was _supposed_ to do in such a situation.

Perhaps…

Perhaps the boy had a right to be bent up about losing his mother.

With just how disgusting and weak it all seemed, Piccolo understood far too well that he had absolutely no way to relate in this feeling of grief. He didn't even know what it was to _have_ a mom…

.

When Piccolo had met him the first time, Gohan's energy had already been spent during his fight with those kids. Piccolo had been aware of Goku's death, and he had flown out to Mount Pazou weeks earlier to confirm the news for himself. Having been spending his time training on the other side of the mountain, not too far away, he was in close proximity when he sensed the altercation taking place at the little hut. Having been in the middle of a meditation session, Piccolo had initially ignored the fight taking place and chosen to continue with his mental trance.

It was when he felt that strong spike of ki that Piccolo become taken aback enough to open his eyes. He quickly flew to the scene of the battle and had perched in a nearby tree, observing everything from afar.

What he saw had been nothing less than enticing.

Piccolo had already known that Chi-Chi had been killed. He'd sensed it coming when he felt the strain of her energy as she had presumably attempted to protect her home. What he hadn't been expecting was the aftermath.

Evidently, not only had Gohan's speed been able to match the pests who had killed his mother, but he'd landed several blows on the one with the black hair…

Astounded, Piccolo watched as Gohan dodged several blows before finally taking a hit to the ribs. In response the boy had let out a primal scream, a wave of raw unfiltered energy exploding around him.

It had been enough to throw both of those teenagers back.

It had been enough that, after he had ceased with his cry and the ki had faded around him, the boy had been buried by an avalanche of dust.

The house the boy had been standing in front of had grown weak from his energy, and it had swiftly crumbled into a pile of splinters and shards of concrete, washing over the child in wave. The kid hadn't even seen it coming, the debris building up until he could no longer be seen nor heard.

The teenagers had retreated into the sky then, laughing as they looked down as the remnants of Son Goku's home.

"Too bad he died so easily. He was actually fun." The girl called, amusement lacing her typically monotone voice.

Then, and only then, did Piccolo realize something very drastic about that those menacing kids.

_They couldn't sense ki._

It was clear from the pulsating of energy that the boy was still breathing under the rubble - he had merely been knocked out. How was it that those teenagers could be so tactful during altercations, but they didn't know _that?!_

' _Whatever'_ Piccolo thought, adjusting his posture on the tree branch where he was perched. This was a weakness he'd finally learned of those kids, and this worked to his advantage, anyway...

...He waited several minutes as he listened to them flying away. And when he was certain that the notorious _Island Killers_ were far enough that he wouldn't be seen, Piccolo jumped down from his spot to dig the child out from his self-induced grave. He'd been surprised to see that the child's hair, which had been a bright flame of yellow during battle, had completely reverted to a more suiting jet black, but he didn't worry too much on that feature.

This boy had been sloppy in his technique, but he'd still stood his ground against those kids. Surely, with proper training, he'd be able to make them eat their words. If the kid actually learned some technique instead of relying purely on his juvenile instinct, then there might lay some hope for this disgusting world after all.

He was unconscious, completely oblivious to his surroundings. His ki was nowhere near as stunning as it had been a few minutes earlier, but Piccolo found this to be a good thing. Nobody would suspect that the boy with the laughably weak aura would have such a capability hidden within. Not only was he strong when he wanted to be, but the boy also carried with him the element of surprise...

With no reason to hesitate, Piccolo lifted the child into his arms. The boy was limp, his face bruised and covered in soot, and he didn't so much as groan when Piccolo took off into the sky.

.

Now, weeks later, Piccolo was standing over the boy after watching what had just happened with those trees. The child was wiping tears from his face with his dirt caked hands, his voice quivering as he struggled to keep his composure. "It-it isn't fair…" He was sniffling, his shoulders bobbing manically as he fought for breath.

"No. It isn't." The mentor replied, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched the child. He turned his head to the side, sighing as a familiar sensation washed over his core for a countless time. He may not be able to understand what the boy was feeling, but he did understand how it felt to watch this child's torment.

With a sigh he knelt down to be at face level with the boy, placing a long hand on his shoulder. "And that is why we must train, do you understand?" He said. His temper had softened long ago, and he was no longer speaking with such a harsh demeanor. "You have the power to avenge your mother, kid. What happened just now with those trees, that wasn't any laughing matter. If we train so you learn to unleash that voluntarily, you'll be able to get revenge for your mom."

"I just wish we didn't have to hurt anyone…" Gohan whispered, looking up from his lap to face Piccolo. "None of this is _fair…_ "

What was he supposed to say to that?

This boy was so odd.

So absolutely odd.

Even when speaking of the ones who had murdered millions, the child was exhibiting compassion. Such a reaction seemed so unnaturally tender to the man who had never known what the word care meant. Piccolo wanted to tell the child that he was being an idiot for feeling such a way.

He wanted to tell the boy that those Island Killers didn't deserve such regard.

And yet, as he looked into the child's eyes, he found it hard to say anything else that might dampen Gohan's mood even further.

And so, as Piccolo's fingers tightened around the boy's shoulder, he nodded.

"You'll be alright, kid."

He gulped as the words left his mouth.

It was all he could think to say.

"Follow my lead, and you'll be alright."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left really helpful and nice comments for the last chapter. I wanted to post this one sooner but December got the best of me. I also felt a little challenged by this one. There were lots of different scenes taking place simultaneously, along with Piccolo's memory of meeting Gohan thrown in the middle, and I was trying to make sure it wasn't too confusing to read. I had trouble writing the last chapter because it was a filler, and similarly I had a hard time with this one. I don't think this chapter was so much of a filler, but more of a bridge... if that makes sense? This one did include plot development but it was subtle, and acting as a bridge to what is to come. I was also trying to get a good grip on Piccolo and Gohan's dynamic that they are forming, so I wanted to take my time with that and not rush the writing.
> 
> I am already well into chapter 21. :) It already has about 4,000 words typed up. I am not yet sure what the total length will be, but I think it's safe to say it shouldn't take me as long to publish as this one did!


	21. The Sparring Session

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter...
> 
> Bulma finally decides she is going to check on the drone she sent to see if her parents are okay. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Gohan changes form during his training with Piccolo, causing his ki to spike. Vegeta recognizes this as the mysterious ki he felt weeks earlier, but before he has a chance to investigate it goes away. Realizing what it might mean, he is furious as he storms in to check on Bulma once again...

* * *

 

"Damn you, Woman!" Vegeta was snarling. He'd only stepped into the house two seconds earlier, but he had already seen that Bulma was nowhere near her workstation. Five minutes hadn't even passed since all that had happened in the gravity room. Still processing the conclusion he'd come to, the saiyan was already furious before he'd seen that Bulma was missing, and that only added to his rage. Scanning the room for the Bluehead, the saiyan was quick to spot her huddled at the other end of the large room.

Even as he yelled and made his temper known, Bulma didn't stir from whatever it was she was busy with.

" _WHAT_ do you think you're doing!" He continued, storming right for her. He'd expected her to turn and scowl at him, and to even yell back, but she didn't move at all as he crossed the room. If anything, her head only seemed to lower between her shoulders as the saiyan gained momentum. It wasn't until he was standing just behind her and made to put his hand on her shoulder that she finally stirred.

"Oh, leave me alone!" She howled, jumping from her seat and spinning around to face the saiyan in one swift movement. It seemed that she had sensed that he was reaching for her, because Bulma had been slapping his arm away before he'd even touched her.

"Woman!" Vegeta snapped. He took a step back, but did not lessen his hard demeanor. "What do you-"

"My name is not _WOMAN!"_ She shouted, and her blue eyes were glistening as she glared at him. "You seemed to know my name back when you were jumping on me every two minutes, so you _should_ be able to remember it now!"

"Who do you think you're-" Vegeta tried again, but Bulma cut him off.

"Just leave me the fuck alone, damnit!" She screamed. "You've been harassing me for days about those damned bots, and I keep telling you that I'm almost done! All I did was take one small break, and you're coming in here and barking at me like I'm some disobedient child!"

"There is no time for breaks right now!" He shot back, stepping towards her again. "You got enough of a vacation when you ran off to that village like an irresponsible idiot!"

"Stop using that against me, damnit!" Bulma crowed, but she was growing short of breath and starting to huff now. "I've heard enough of that!"

"You have not." The saiyan replied. "Going out and doing something that could potentially get yourself killed - the foolishness! You will hear of this for the rest of your days, if I see fit!"

"Really?" Bulma reared back, as if readying herself to make an explosive retaliation. Vegeta smirked in anticipation, folding his arms over his chest. But instead of an ear shattering scream, as he had come to expect from her spiking ki and hateful facial expressions, he received something much more _wet_ instead.

It was her glossy eyes, which had been sparkling more by the second as he yelled. Locked on his own, she was staring at him with those large eyes that seemed to glisten with tears. "And who says getting myself killed would have been such a bad thing, anyway?" She finally barked, but her voice was crackling too much to hold any type of intimidating tone.

Vegeta turned his nose up at this, his eyes wrinkling with repulsion. "You don't actually _mean_ that, do you?"

"What I mean-!" She spat. "Well, what do _you_ care if I get myself killed?!"

The saiyan's eyes went wide at this, and his mouth slammed shut so fast that he accidentally bit down on his tongue. There was a consequential taste of metal forming in his mouth as blood began to ooze through the wound, but he ignored it. _Was she really asking him something like this?_ What did she honestly want him to say to that?

But it seemed she didn't care to hear his response, for she continued on her rant without missing a beat.20

"You've had the biggest stick up your ass ever since we got back, and if I had known this was how you were going to start behaving then I never would have gone! All I wanted to do was have _one_ nice day! You've been acting completely cold towards me, and my parents are fucking dead, and I CAN'T take this right now!"

"Well _my_ parents are dead, too, so-" Vegeta began, but then he paused. As if registering what she had just said, he raised a suspicious eyebrow. "I thought I told you that they live..."

"Yeah, you did, which also makes you a liar on top of everything else!" The Bluehead scowled. She turned back around and gestured towards the monitor on the phone system. "All I was trying to do was check the drone I sent out to check on them, when you came in here yelling at me! Because I am just _so_ lazy, right?! Being concerned for my family's well being makes me _such_ a sloth, doesn't it!"

Vegeta's upper lip twitched as he focused on what was displaying on Bulma's monitor. "What is this?" He demanded, though his tone had softened considerably. "What are we looking at?"

A loud clapping noise sounded when the Bluehead slammed her palm down on the desk. "What do you THINK we're looking at? That's MY house!"

"Yes, because it is completely recognizable in its state! I should have known!" Vegeta spat sarcastically, an uncontrollable reflex that always came from being barked at.

"It's unrecognizable, and that's exactly the point!" Bulma crowed, flinging herself into her chair and throwing her face into her hands.

Stepping closer to the monitor, Vegeta narrowed his eyebrows. Rather than the bright and eccentric scenery that he had grown to associate with the Capsule Corp home, what he was now looking at resembled more of a crop field that had caught on fire.

Any remnants of the building were now a blackened looking pile of ash, with the odd sparkle of steel peeking out from the rubble in random spots. The surrounding land was in no better shape, looking more like a muddy swamp than the green tract that the house had been standing on. All grass had been disintegrated, leaving behind a bubbly crater of muck in its place.

"Kami, Vegeta..." Bulma groaned, her voice muffled from the hands that were still holding her face. Her hostility had given way to the sadness that was undoubtedly welling inside, and the saiyan could hear it when she spoke. "Why did you tell me they were alive? I would have been better off if you hadn't said anything at all. _Why_ did you have to go and give me false hope?"

"I wasn't." The saiyan replied, but he knew it would do no good. Bulma, as brilliant of a creature as she could be when she wasn't being absolutely careless, was still limited with the unfortunate condition of being human. While Vegeta still couldn't grasp how one such as Krillin could he capable of flying and tracing ki, he knew enough about the species to understand just how little they could achieve.

Bulma couldn't sense the aura of her parents like he could. Even as he watched the destruction on the monitor he was feeling their ki. It was subtle in the distance, but still. It was nevertheless _there._

This Woman hadn't been able to feel her parents' energy force, which had been constant and healthy since the last time she'd said goodbye. All she could rely on was the physical proof she had, which was undeniably bleak. Vegeta had been truthful, despite what the Bluehead was now accusing him of, and he knew there would be no way to convince her otherwise. All she had to go off were the images on the screen, which did a strikingly good job at telling an unspoken story that was strikingly untrue.

And this was _it_ \- the first thing that made Vegeta realize how much of a disadvantage it was to be without his old scouter. As much as he hated it, the truth was so evidently clear.

While being able to mentally trace energy gave him an advantage in self-sufficiency, it could only do so much. In a close proximity, if he knew his surroundings well, the saiyan could tell exactly where a person was located based on the reflection of their ki. That had been the first thing he'd realized when he started practicing this, hadn't it? When he had first attempted to reach out and feel for the Bluehead, Vegeta had been pleasantly surprised that he was able to tell she'd locked herself in the bathroom to brood!

But, to know the precise location of someone who was kilometers away? Bulma's parents were on the other end of the planet! Their ki, which was already weak even when even in the same room, was considerably less pronounced in the distance. He could recognize their auras and their approximate vicinity, but that was it. There was no way to determine where exactly they were located, or if they were even moving somewhere else.

If Vegeta still had his scouter with him, he would have been able to zero in on their ki and calculate their exact physical coordinates. He would have been able to tell Bulma precisely where she needed to send the drone in search of her family. He would have been able to _prove_ to her that he did not lie.

But the saiyan couldn't. He just couldn't tell her a damned thing, and in that moment he was far too aware of this. Bulma now believed him to be a liar, and anything he said now would only leave her doubting him more. Not to mention, it would also make him look pathetic…

"Vegeta..." Bulma was saying now. She'd pulled her hands from her face to look at him with those accusatory eyes. " _Why?_ You _knew_ I was going to find out anyway. Why would you lie to me about something like this? I would have rather known. I would have rather faced the facts so I could stop questioning everything and start moving on. _All_ this did was prolong my own pain. _Why?"_

So now she not only was accusing him of manipulation, but she was interrogating him as well? Another reflex was erupting in the midst of his already bad mood, and there was no way he was going to be able to keep it at bay. Feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, the saiyan reared back. "You were doubting me anyway!" He shot defensively. "What does it matter what I say!"

"What matters is that I trusted you!" Bulma snapped. "I might have been doubtful – of course I was! I was _scared_ for them! I just wanted to see for myself to know it was really _real!_ But deep down, I _wanted_ to trust what you said!"

There it was again - the saiyan's least favorite word to ever leave that stubborn Woman's lips.

_Trust._

"And how is that my fault!" He barked. "How many times have I told you not to TRUST! I TOLD you the only thing you should ever trust is the brutality and evil that every living creature will inevitably one day face! _Hoping_ for redeeming qualities will only result in exploitation and abuse! You choose to ignore my advice like an ignorant _idiot,_ and you give in to such foolish ideals anyway! Your ineptness is your owned fault!"

The room was silent when he finished his rant, and this wasn't the first time Vegeta had instantly regretted screaming at this girl like he just had.

He refused to show it, though.

He just couldn't.

Not when she was accusing him of such things. _Not_ when she was talking to him as if he'd intentionally hurt her. Not when he knew just how much of an oaf it would make him look if he dropped to his knees and expressed sorrow immediately after saying such things...

But the way she was looking at him now only added to the tension inside, leaving him both more confused with himself and angry at this situation than ever. He glared at her, trying to mask the painful doubt brewing inside, and he waited for her to say something hostile back.

He wanted her to yell at him. To tell him why he was wrong, and stand her ground as she always had when the subject came up before. Yet he knew this time was different.

The look in her eyes said it all, even as remained silent.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Bulma shook her head. "You son of a bitch."

That was all.

She said nothing more, leaving her words to dwindle in the air as she stood. She was making a line directly for the bathroom, and Vegeta only felt he'd be a hypocrite to try and stop her as she left. Just before slamming the door, the Bluehead poked her head out to speak one last time. "Some of those bots are ready, and some aren't. Have fun figuring out which is which, because I'M done!"

And that was the last thing she said. Vegeta could her emotions pulsating from the other room, could feel as it all boiled over behind that door. The saiyan was so beside himself that he was drenched in sweat and huffing with anger, as he marched towards the workstation where Bulma had been tinkering on the battle bots. He snatched them up into his arms, which somehow only made him feel worse.

These _things_ she had been slaving over felt so wretched, and he refused to look down at them as he moved.

The metal of the robots clinked dangerously as he growled, and the sound sobered the saiyan only slightly as he charged back out for the gravity room. When they weren't powered on, these _things_ were laughably weak. He needed to be careful before he broke the damned robots again before they even had the chance to put up a fight.

 _This_ was what he'd been wanting all along, wasn't it? For once Bulma had actually listened to his lecture about trust, and she hadn't had some feeble retort to shoot back in her defense. He'd been telling her the same thing for weeks, so _why_ did he feel so repulsive now?

He'd made his point - _finally_ \- and he shouldn't be giving a damn about how he'd done it. It shouldn't matter to him if he'd yelled at her as a defense mechanism to her prying questions. This whole situation was her own damned fault for not being able to sense her parents like he could! It shouldn't have mattered to Vegeta that the reason why he had gotten so upset in the first place was because she had thought he'd maliciously misled her, and had been looking at him with such sickening disappointment.

No, none of this should have been bothering him at all - and yet he couldn't stop thinking about all of it. The words he'd yelled replayed in his head, along with that morose gleam in her eyes. It wouldn't stop, not even as he clicked on a battle bot and watched it rise to life. Not as he powered up in preparation for the impending sparring match.

Even as the battle bot slammed into his gut before he'd had the chance to see it coming, he was still too distracted thinking of _her._

"This thing is three times as fast as before. It's brilliant..." He said breathlessly with recoil from the blow. "I knew she would fix it! That damned... Woman..."

.

She was _done_ working on the bots?

Even as Bulma slammed the bathroom door shut, she knew what she said was untrue. What else was she going to do to occupy her time in this horrible chain of events?

It had been minutes, and she was still alone. The Bluehead had actually expected Vegeta to go after her when she had stormed off. To demand that she complete her work. To sling insults her way about how irresponsible she was, just as he had been doing so frequently up until that point.

She had expected _something_.

And yet, all she received was silence. By the time she had finished running her bath and angrily plopped into the water, the saiyan had already disappeared back into his gravity room. The house was ringing with nothing more than her own thoughts as she soaked, and Bulma couldn't decide if she resented this or if she actually appreciated it...

What in the world had gotten into that man?

The saiyan had always been a bit of a rough asshole, that was to be certain. But lately his behavior towards her had been completely off the wall. It was as if nothing that had occurred between them over the last month had actually taken place. As if they hadn't spent many nights talking to one another until the late hour, which almost always ended with her falling asleep to the sound of his strangely calming voice.

She'd seen a different man in the glimpses of vulnerability he'd shown her, and he has suddenly walled it all up again. Lately he had been acting just as he'd been when they'd first met.

Vegeta was being a hardass, and Bulma didn't understand why.

Sure - he kept alluding to their trip in town, and he kept ranting about how stupid it was for her to do. But he hadn't been _too_ objective at the time. He might have resisted, but he had been open to it in the end. He'd even seemed _happy_ when he'd been stuffing his mouth with all of that food he'd found! Vegeta had been acting so tender towards the end of their day – at least, until they had fallen asleep in the car and he'd woken up yelling.

Whatever it was that was up his own ass, nothing could excuse it. Bulma knew what Vegeta was capable of, and she knew how comforting he could be if he had the mind for it. Just because something was bothering him off didn't mean that he had to be such a mouthy jerk to her. It didn't excuse any of his recent behavior.

It _especially_ didn't excuse the way he'd blown up at her just now.

Her parents were dead, for Kami's sake!

But then, as Bulma pondered it all, she sank deeper into the water. Who was she kidding? The guy came from some foreign planet on an end of the universe she never had known to exist, and he had lived a lifestyle she couldn't truly imagine. One of the first things he had told her about himself was that it was unwise to trust him. Actually, in his opinion, she shouldn't trust _anyone_ \- and yet here she was.

Sitting in a bathtub and brooding over his callous actions. Her parents were dead, _Vegeta_ of all people was the thing she was concerned about? What was _wrong_ with her?

"I've been such an idiot." She sighed, opening her hand in the water and watching small waves ripple from the movement. She really was a fool, wasn't she? Somehow she'd let herself build up so much faith in that man, even when he himself had told her not to.

And that was that.

As scorned and betrayed as Bulma felt, she wouldn't let herself lose grip over that man. She had her parents to mourn! Why should she let Vegeta add to her grief? She just wouldn't let it happen!

The day was already growing late, and the saiyan was still presumably locked in the gravity room when she pulled herself out of the bathroom. Seeing that he'd taken all of the battle bots with him, Bulma shook her head. She really had absolutely nothing to do. Not caring to see the saiyan when he finally returned from his training, and dreading the burden of consciousness, the Bluehead decided the best course of action would be to go ahead and lock herself in the bedroom for the night.

It seemed as if hours passed as she lay in bed, staring into the. She heard when Vegeta eventually let himself into the house, the sounds of his footsteps as he moved about. She listened to the deep of his voice as he muttered something to himself that she couldn't quite make out.

It seemed as if it was hours that passed before she fell asleep, but she eventually did.

.

Piccolo and Gohan were greeted before they even had the chance to knock and announce their arrival. In fact, they had barely landed in the green pasture that the house was planted on when the door swung open and out popped a blur of blue.

She was carrying something bulky in her arms, and Bulma had started to head towards the large gravity room that had been set up beside the capsule house. She was quick to notice that she had company, though, and so she began a detour towards her guests instead.

"Hi Gohan!" She called. There was a smile on her face, yet no cheer in her voice.

"Miss Bulma." He nodded back, stepping ahead of Piccolo so he could formally meet with one of the few acquaintances he had left.

"I'd hug you, but my arms are full." The Bluehead commented, shooting a wink at the child before turning up to address her green guest. "Hello, Piccolo."

"Bulma." He replied, not caring to offer the same smile that she was forcing at him. What struck him as interesting was that her demeanor had completely changed since their last encounter. That time she had been squeaking and hiding behind Vegeta like a coward, but she'd at least had a lot of life in her eyes. Today she almost appeared robotic, speaking as if her mind were kilometers away. Too far gone to even remember to be afraid.

He didn't care anything about this woman in front of him, but still. The contrast struck him as odd. It had only been a week - what could have happened in seven days to make such a difference?

"What do you have in your arms?" Gohan was asking now.

"Battle bots. I just finished two new ones. It's all I have to do." Bulma replied curtly, as if just speaking the words was conjuring some pent up resentment that she didn't want to remember. "Whether I want to or not, this is all I have to pass the time."

"That's good, anyway." Piccolo grunted. "The more you make, the better."

Bulma looked up from the boy to eye Piccolo, her brows raised with surprise. She watched him for a few seconds, as if she were offended by what he'd just said and was trying to determine how to handle it. Whatever she was thinking, she must have thought better of saying something snide. Because instead she simply sighed and shook her head before turning away. "Come on, then. I was just bringing these to the Sir Bitch-a-lot. I'm sure he knows you're here and is just waiting for me to bring you to him, anyway."

"Are you okay, Miss Bulma?" Gohan felt compelled to ask, but the Bluehead had already started trailing towards the gravity room and did not reply.

Just as she had predicted, Vegeta had shut off the gravity machine and was leaning against the wall expectantly when the three walked in on him.

"... And _here_ he is." Bulma said, waving a hand towards the saiyan without actually looking at him.

"So you've finally shown yourself." The saiyan said then. His eyes were locked on Piccolo as he pushed himself back from the wall and slowly began to walk across the room. "Ready to be humiliated, then?"

"Yeah, sure." Piccolo grunted. "Are _you?"_

"It shouldn't come as a surprise to either of you that I only plan on teaching you what a true warrior is capable of." Vegeta shot back. He had an intense look on his face when he eyed the boy standing at Piccolo's side, raising a brow as if only seeing the child for the first time.

"Well, now you guys are reunited and everything. How cute." Bulma chimed. She had already taken the opportunity to leave the two new battle bots on the floor, and was currently making her way back to the door. "I'll be in the house."

"That is fine." Vegeta replied. He pulled his eyes from Gohan so he could look at the Bluehead. Her rear was gyrating as she quick-stepped away, her shoulders tense as she tried to urge herself to move even faster. "Woman. Just one thing."

Bulma stopped in the doorway to glance over her shoulder. Vegeta was looking into her eyes, his arms folded over his chest. "My name is not Sir-Bitch-A-Lot."

"Oh, you heard that." She scowled back. Truth be told, she actually wasn't surprised at all. In fact, she had _hoped_ he was listening when she said it. "You HAVE called me Bulma before, but now all I am to you is _woman_. Perhaps someday you'll start referring to me by my name again, but until then Sir-Bitch-A-Lot seems like a fitting alias to me."

His eyes widened, clearly not having expected her to act so boldly in front of his guests. The two had hardly spoken in days, and yet he still managed to be taken aback by her hostility. Before he had enough capacity to open his mouth with a response, Bulma had already disappeared behind the heavy door, slamming it as she went.

"Damn, man." Piccolo couldn't help but comment. "What did you _do_ to her?"

"Nothing!" Vegeta snapped, blood rushing to his cheeks. "You shut up!"

"Whatever. I don't care, anyway." Piccolo shook his head. "You know why we're here, so let's cut to the chase. The boy is ready for the exaggerated gravity."

The saiyan had already regained his composure in Bulma's absence, and Vegeta was staring down at Gohan with marked interest once again. "Oh, you're ready, are you?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I..." Gohan timidly looked to Piccolo for affirmation, unsure if Vegeta was testing him on some way.

"Well?" Piccolo said with a frown. "Don't look at me, kid. Tell the man."

"I..." Gohan sighed, looking back to the saiyan. "I want to spar with you, Mr. Vegeta."

"You..." Vegeta might have smirked if the boy had told him this during their last encounter, but this time was different.

"No increased gravity." Piccolo chimed, setting the boundaries of the sparring match. "Outside. You two will fight in the conditions that Gohan has been training with so far."

"And I don't suppose you expect the boy to actually develop useful instincts by limiting him to one environment." Vegeta replied, but he didn't decline the request. _This_ didn't surprise him too much. The only thing he was wondering in that moment was if those two took him for a fool.

Did they really expect him not to know what those two were planning? He'd been sensing their training sessions all week! And, as much as it irritated him to realize what Gohan was capable of, he'd be an idiot to not acknowledge it.

In fact, he'd been mad about their sessions for days. It was what he had been angry about before he walked in on Bulma and got into the huge blowout with her. He couldn't help but to put blame of his current status with the Bluehead on these two! He had been anxiously awaiting the moment to get his revenge. He'd teach his two guests what would happen if they tried to one-up him. He'd make them regret their attempt…

They thought they had the element of surprise on their side, and that only added to Vegeta's irritation.

The fools.

He led them outside, only making a slight detour to poke his head into the capsule house and tell Bulma not to go while he was gone. He thought this was a pretty reasonable statement to make. Of course, coming from Vegeta, what he actually said was "Woman, we are leaving for a few hours. Do NOT even THINK about stepping foot from this house! Do you understand?!"

"Oh, buzz off!" Bulma had shouted from the bedroom. "I'll do whatever the hell I want!"

She'd been saying things like this to him all week, and yet she hadn't made another attempt at taking off into town. At this point, though her attitude was a trial to his patience, he had grown used to it. "Right." He grumbled, stepping back out into the green pasture and resuming his position as the leader of this small and hostile group.

Piccolo had his arms folded over his chest, his eyes on the saiyan as he walked back over to them.

"Do NOT ask me what I did to her again." Vegeta warned, his teeth clenched.

Piccolo shook his head, but otherwise did not say anything.

The saiyan cleared his throat, glaring at the two. "Right. We will fly back from whence you both came. The boy will show me what he is capable of, and you will not intervene at any time."

"Think you'll be okay, Gohan?" Piccolo asked with a smirk.

The bastard. Piccolo was mocking him, and right to his own face. _'We'll see how long you're grinning for...'_ Vegeta thought, though his expression didn't reveal his internal musings…

.

.

Thirty minutes later they had landed in the exact spot were Vegeta had originally met the two. The saiyan, who had no doubt about his suspicions in the first place, could quickly confirm them by seeing the state of the land around him.

The lake, looking rather tranquil with its calm water, was surrounded by footprints and small craters that had been formed in the shore during Gohan and Piccolo's matches. In the forest to the west was a path of cleared trees, extending farther than Vegeta could even see. There was a faint odor of burned wood in the air, loose branches and tree limbs strewed about.

"Are you ready, Mr. Vegeta?" Gohan asked carefully. He had already taken his position across from the saiyan, falling into his battle stance - just as Piccolo had instructed him to do.

Vegeta, who had still been analyzing the destruction, turned to eye the boy. "Me, ready?" He replied sarcastically, an eyebrow raised. "I am hardly prepared. I wonder how I shall ever prevail..."

"Okay." Gohan nodded.

And then, despite the sinking feeling that had been forming in his stomach all day, the child continued to do exactly what Piccolo had advised him to. _'It's just a sparring match... It's just a sparring match.'_ He thought to himself, exhaling a deep breath of air to try and calm his nerves. With one more deep breath, the boy jumped and began to fly at Vegeta at half speed.

The saiyan prince folded his arms as he waited for the boy to approach. And as he drew closer, Gohan lifted his fists. He was heading directly towards Vegeta's left shoulder, focusing on making sure his hit would be hard enough to knock the saiyan off his feet.

The closer that the boy grew to him, the more Vegeta would smirk. It was clear what the child was planning. The boy was easier to read than the dragon radar…

… And, just as Gohan was about to land his blow on Vegeta, he quickly swirled around to be on the saiyan's backside – again, just as Piccolo had told him to do. The child was lifting his leg to land a kick on the back of Vegeta's hips, when the saiyan prince whirled around and caught the boy by the ankle.

Using only one hand, Vegeta squeezed Gohan's leg as he raised the child upside down. Gohan wailed in surprise, fighting to kick himself out of Vegeta's grip.

"A jump kick..." Vegeta commented, furrowing his brows as the boy groaned. "...Is predictable and will not work when you move at such laughable speed."

This sad attempt at attack only soured the saiyan's mood as he shook the child. None of this made any sense. The boy's capabilities weren't collating with what Vegeta had predicted at all. This was Gohan's one chance at winning over the saiyan prince, and _that_ was what he had chosen to do? Vegeta could feel his anger bubbling over. Not only had Piccolo and this boy taken him to be a fool, but he'd also been wrong.

He'd been expecting something more. He'd been anticipating _something_ \- _**anything**_ that might be somewhat challenging! He'd thought he'd at _least_ be surprised, and he couldn't believe these two had actually managed to do even that to him!

If this child wasn't the one whom's ki he had been sensing, then WHO was it?!

Everything was making less sense by the minute, and he was pissed.

"Stupid boy!" Vegeta spat, lifting the child higher so the blood would rush to his head. "Did you _really_ think that, in all my experience, you'd be the first to try something like that?! Did you REALLY think I wouldn't see it coming?!"

The child was screaming now, yowling in pain as Vegeta's calloused finger tips dug into his leg.

"Now do you understand how inferior you are to me?!" The saiyan prince scolded. "Will you admit to me that you are weak?"

"No!" Gohan yelled, his cheeks turning pink as the blood rushed to his face.

"Are you sure about that?" Vegeta replied, lifting the boy even higher. "Are you _sure?"_

"NO!" Gohan crowed.

And then, still following with what Piccolo had instructed him, the boy did it.

As he had been hanging upside down, Gohan had been channeling within. Trying to dig into the internal corridor that held the key to his power, he had finally found it. He opened his bloodshot eyes, his hair flying out as his body burst into a bright flash of gold.

Vegeta yelled, ripping his hand from the boy's leg and jumping back. Suddenly Gohan's skin had been uncomfortably hot to the touch, and as Vegeta looked down at his palm he saw that the flesh had been burned to a bright pink hue.

It was as if the boy had suddenly turned to fire!

He looked back to the child, half expecting to see the boy laying as a charred pile of ash on the ground. Had the kid just spontaneously combusted? He'd only meant to teach the half-breed a lesson. He wasn't intending to actually _kill_ him!

What he saw, though, somehow seemed exponentially worse.

"You..." He gasped. "YOU?!"

This was it.

 _This_ was that aura he had felt.

 _THIS_ was what he had suspected all along.

He thought that perhaps the child was simply a genius at disguising his ki. He'd assumed the boy would use that in order to land a surprise attack on him. Thinking such a thing was what had been so infuriating to the saiyan. Vegeta had been suspicious that the person with such notable ki had been the boy after the last time he'd sensed it, but he hadn't been expecting _this._

"So, Vegeta, did you see _that_ coming?!" Piccolo jeered from the sidelines.

Gohan was now hovering in front of Vegeta, his cyan blue eyes locked on him. Wordlessly, he flew at the saiyan prince. Vegeta was still in shock, and his reaction was delayed as he lifted an arm to block the punch from the boy.

Gohan didn't relent, throwing blows at Vegeta as if he'd been starving for such an altercation his whole life. Vegeta was dodging each attempt the boy made, backing away slowly as he mentally struggled to grasp what was unfolding.

How could this _half breed_ be one of the legendary?

It didn't make any sense at all!

"That's enough, Gohan!" Piccolo was screaming. But the boy wasn't listening to any of it. _'The idiot!'_ Vegeta thought. Of course the child wasn't going to listen! He was just _that_ , after all! A child!

Legend had it that even the strongest of warrior would lose any sense of conscious upon making the change. Much like when one would take on the oozaru form, if a saiyan managed to transition into super saiyan then he would relentlessly go on the hunt for blood. There _would_ be nothing to stop him until his energy ran out!

"Gohan, DAMNIT! I said that's ENOUGH!" Piccolo was barking as Vegeta blocked another kick, but instead received a punch to the side of the head. It was a hard enough blow to leave his ears ringing, the saiyan's eyes widening from the pain.

Foam was forming at the sides of his mouth and Gohan was snarling now, flailing his legs wildly as he desperately attempted to land more blows on the saiyan prince.

"Get a grip, _boy!"_ Vegeta spat, slamming a fist onto the child's leg as he dodged it. He could hear the crackle of the child's bone, which fractured from the force of the impact. And yet the boy didn't even flinch, instead just opening his mouth to let out a primal yell of frustration before continuing his launch.

Kami, this wasn't good. The saiyan was actually starting to feel winded from this altercation, and the boy wasn't showing any signs of letting up. With Gohan's current power level, Vegeta could easily see himself getting badly injured if he miscalculated any of the kid's movements.

He could hear Piccolo approaching from behind to try and assist in the situation. "You idiot!" Vegeta barked at him, still working to dodge the boy's blows. "Look what you've encouraged!"

Piccolo lunged forward to grab Gohan's bicep. "Enough, kid." He warned, but the boy only growled and ripped his limb from his mentor's grip. He turned on Piccolo then, his teeth clenched as he moved. In an instant he was attacking him with just as much vigor as he had been going after Vegeta with, and the saiyan prince took this as his chance.

"Gohan, I told you to stop!" Piccolo was barking. He had just caught both of Gohan's fists in his hands. Relentless, the child simply chose to headbutt him instead.

The sound of two skulls slamming against one another might have made the average person cringe with second-hand pain. Piccolo, gritting his teeth from the blow, was stunned that the kid would be bold enough to do such a thing. Surely that would have hurt him, too! The boy was going to give himself a concussion!

Gohan had managed to break his arms free during the blow, and he was now moving on his mentor again. Ready to tear his esophagus out, the child's heart was racing as he anticipated the feeling of a victim's blood on his skin.

' _Damnit.'_ Piccolo thought. The kid was completely off the wall! Gohan had no control of himself! Piccolo was going to have to blast him in the torso just to get him to sit still for long enough to calm down.

This wasn't how he had wanted things to go.

Yet he knew that Gohan was going to end up killing himself if he kept slamming his head against things the way he just had. Piccolo would rather the boy suffer traumatic injuries than to beat himself to death.

That was it.

Feeling responsible, Piccolo grit his teeth as he began to raise his hand towards the boy. The power was just starting to charge in his fingers, but Piccolo suddenly saw the fire leave the child's eyes.

Gohan, who had been in the middle of another jump at Piccolo, had paused in midair.

He was staring straight ahead, the cyan of his irises darkening slightly to something else, his mouth dropped open in bewilderment. It was almost as if he had lost all feeling or thought at all, watching Piccolo blankly as his primal instincts were put on pause.

"It doesn't feel good, does it?" Vegeta said then, a condescending tone dripping from his voice.

Piccolo, who had been reading his aim to shoot at Gohan's rib, lowered his arm. He looked to Vegeta, who was standing at the boy's side. Something long and furry was being held in Vegeta's hand, and Piccolo narrowed his eyes as he thought of what it could be. He tried to hide his surprise when he realized what it was that Vegeta was holding.

It was the child's tail.

Gohan slowly looked to Vegeta, his mouth still hanging open in a stupor. His golden hair was dimming to its naturally jet black state, shimmering sporadically like a street light that was about to go out.

"If you don't learn how to act in your state, then this will happen to you each and every time. Understand?" Vegeta said then, and he tightened his grip on the tail.

That was when it happened. Gohan threw his head back, letting out another yell. This time, rather than a cry of hunger, the boy was screaming out in pain. His entire body jolted, his arms tightening to his side. His legs went stiff, and the residual power left in his body was being flushed out. Any remaining signs of his legendary state quickly evaded him.

His eyes and hair completely black now, the boy collapsed to his knees, panting. Vegeta stood over the child, looking down at him and considering how dim his ki was once again.

"I can't believe it." He grumbled, throwing the boy's tail to the ground and stepping back.

Piccolo had watched it all from where he stood. A line of blood was trailing down the side of his face, a side effect from Gohan slamming his head against his own. _'So,'_ He thought... So, Grabbing the child's tail was how to restrain him when he was in this state. That was good to know...

"You fucking idiot!" Vegeta barked then, turning on Piccolo. "THAT was your plan?! To have the child become the legendary and then hope for the best?! REALLY?!"

"Legendary." Piccolo asked, though it came out as a statement instead. "What do you mean legendary?"

"You don't even-" Vegeta was snarling. He slammed a palm to his face, trying to keep his temper from blowing over. Not only had this wimpy child achieved something that no saiyan had accomplished in thousands of years - but neither of them even knew enough to appreciate it?!

"Tell me what you know about this boy's change." Piccolo demanded, but Vegeta shook his head. "If I explain the legend to you, then I will only tell it once. The boy will be awake to hear it as well, because I am _not_ going to repeat myself."

"Fine." Piccolo growled, stepping toward the child, who was laying face-down in the dirt. "So, are you convinced that he is useful now?"

"Perhaps." Vegeta spat bitterly. "But you two don't deserve the right to experiment with something so grand. It's as if you think the legendary is a joke. How _dare_ you encourage the child to change when neither of you are smart enough to even control it! How fucking disdainful!"

"Whatever." Piccolo muttered. He bent down and lifted Gohan, scooping him into his arms.

"I am going back to my home base." Vegeta said curtly. "Follow if you will, but don't do anything else moronic while you're in my presence. I might lose my temper and actually kill you!"

"You know, Vegeta." Piccolo said cooly, jumping into the air. "You talk big, but someday you're gonna get your assed kicked for it."

"Right." The saiyan prince spat. "This coming from _you_ is hardly a threat."

And with that he took off for the Capsule house, Piccolo following behind with Gohan still in his arms.


	22. What on Earth?

It sounded like a group of disoriented drunks, their footsteps uncoordinated and fickle in certainty. There was a clambering at the front door, as if someone had fallen into it, and then it finally opened.

The Bluehead had been lazing on the couch with a book in her face for the last hour, but she sat up quickly as she listened to the commotion taking place just across the room. She looked towards the small foyer to see that the three males had returned, and they were looking worse for wear.

Vegeta was standing by the doorway, that typical spoiled pout planted on his face. He was watching Gohan and Piccolo as the two got situated, which didn't seem as if it was proving to be an easy task. Piccolo had nearly tripped over himself as he stepped inside, still holding Gohan in his arms. The boy was looking rather dazed, and he was sitting in his mentor's hold like a frightened dog.

"What happened to you?" The Bluehead asked, setting her book aside. "You all look like someone beat you up."

"Put him on the couch next to her." Vegeta ordered to Piccolo, ignoring Bulma's question. She sat up straighter when she got a better look at Gohan as he was carried over. "What on-?"

"Ah!" Gohan hissed as he was set on the couch. He threw his head back, biting on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

"I know, kid." Piccolo gruned. "But trust me. It's better to be like this than it is to be dead."

"What-?" Bulma tried again. She turned towards Vegeta, only to see that he was no longer standing in the doorway. Instead he was heading towards the hall, leaving her alone in the living room with their two guests. She was still upset with the saiyan, but she felt more comfortable asking him for information than she did Piccolo. "Hey!"

She jumped off the side of the couch, breaking into a run as she went after him. She caught up to him, stopping in the doorway of the bathroom to watch Vegeta at work. He was mumbling under his breath, pulling drawers open and searching through them, obviously unable to find whatever it was he was looking for.

"Vegeta..." She said. It was still sinking in that something had gone terribly wrong, and her voice was softening as the worry deepened. "What happened?"

"Where's that damned healing ointment?" The saiyan barked, slamming another drawer in frustration.

"It's in that cabinet – the one under the sink."

"Oh. That's right, isn't it?" He found it in the exact spot that Bulma had always kept it in. Yanking it from the cabinet as if it had insulted him, he turned on his heel to make for the door.

Bulma, who was standing in the entryway of the bathroom, was blocking his exit. Her eyes widened when she saw his face as he approached, not having gotten a decent look at it until this point. He stopped just in front of her to wait for her to move out of the way, but the Bluehead only stepped closer to him instead.

"Your face..." She sighed. _"Veggie..."_

He was staring at the doorframe behind the Bluehead, refusing to look at her as she advanced on him. Half of his face was completely unscathed, but the other half was sporting a red bruise that was swelling under his eye. When he heard the concern in her voice he grit his teeth, glaring at the door with even more determination. "I need to go." He growled, clutching the ointment tighter.

"Did those teenagers find you guys?" She breathed.

He didn't answer.

It was then that she raised a hand, carefully brushing his soft fingertips against the outer edge of his bruise. "Did they...?"

The saiyan's hand flew up to catch her wrist, restraining the Bluehead from rubbing him anymore. Bulma's breath caught in her throat, but she didn't resist his hold. Instead she stood frozen in place, watching Vegeta carefully for any hint of an answer that might be hidden on his face. The saiyan had finally turned to look the Bluehead in the eyes, glaring at her as he breathed. His fingers, gripping her so tightly, still managed to feel careful as he sslowly pushed her hand back from his head.

They stared at one another wordlessly, the Bluehead's lips slightly parted as she fight to keep her composure. His pupils trailed across her face, taking in her features, and his own expression softened. Then, all too abruptly, he stepped back. "Ask me later." He grunted, swiftly moving around her frame and disappearing back into the living room.

… The sounds that quickly followed kept Bulma from leaving the bathroom. Instead she sat on the floor with her back against the counter, cringing as she listened to the scene unfolding on the other side of the wall…

"What is that?" Piccolo asked when he saw Vegeta return with that purple tube in his hand.

"Healing ointment." The saiyan replied shortly as he approached the couch. As soon as he reached Gohan he dropped to his knees in order to be level with the boy.

It was then that he got to work.

In one swift movement Vegeta grabbed Gohan's pants and ripped them open at the location of the fractured bone. He could see the injury site, a large welt that was protruding out from underneath the unbroken skin.

Without a word of warning he grabbed the leg on both sides of the wound, tugging forcefully in a quick jerk.

"AHHH!" Gohan screamed, his body convulsing out from the couch cushions he was sitting on. Piccolo was quick to restrain him, holding him in place as the saiyan worked.

"The bone needed to be set." Vegeta growled in explanation. Even as Gohan continued to pant and fight against his mentor's hold, the saiyan narrowed his eyes in concentration as he focused on the bruising skin. Carefully he raised an index finger to point it at the flesh…

… The sound of Gohan's screams were loud enough to leave the windows rattling, nearby birds taken off in the sky outside.

It was enough to instantly trigger sympathetic tears in Bulma's eyes as she continued to sit on the bathroom floor. _Kami,_ she couldn't bear to hear the boy in such pain. She hid her face in her knees, counting backwards from twenty to distract herself, hoping that this would all be over as soon as possible.

Gohan's ki was rising as he screamed, furiously clawing at Piccolo's arms in desperation. The scratches were enough to draw blood, but Piccolo didn't relent in restricting the boy. "Let me go! Let me go!" Gohan barked, sweat pouring down his temples as he yelled. Vegeta was actively slicing the flesh of his leg open with the beam that was shooting from his finger, a pain more excruciating than the child ever imagined he'd encounter

Blood was bubbling out of his wound as the beam penetrated the muscle, separating the tissue into a long opening that ran down his thigh, deep enough to reveal the bone.

"Stop moving!" Vegeta growled, biting the lid of the tube off before quickly pouring all of the remaining ointment into the wound as the child continued to thrash. Gohan body was fast in absorbing the goo as it drained into his leg, and it was only a couple of seconds before the boy's screamed had faded into raspy pants. He stopped struggling against Piccolo's hold, his limbs going limp as he gasped.

"This ointment is healing, but only to open wounds." Vegeta explained, in a way that came off as if he were lecturing the two. "It wouldn't penetrate deep enough to reach the bone on its own, and that's why I had to make an incision into the skin. Your bones are healing as I speak. You'll be fine after you sleep on it."

Piccolo let go of Gohan then, stepping back to see with more clarity what had been done. The boy's bleeding had already clotted to a halt, and he looked to Vegeta as he straightened his posture on the couch. "You could have warned me!" He croaked, his voice cracking from its high pitch.

"Warned you? So that you would be more prepared to fight Piccolo off? So that you would understand what was happening and be afflicted with the mental anguish of it? I did you a favor in not warning you, and it's over now, boy."

Gohan looked down to his leg shyly, as if he were frightened of what he would see. The room fell silent as he studied his own injury. Vegeta rose to his feet and walked to the kitchen in order to discard the empty ointment tube, and when he returned Gohan was still studying himself in shock.

" _Veggie..."_ A soft voice said then, breaking the quiet.

Everyone turned to see Bulma standing at the end of the hall, her head poking into the room shyly. She watched the three with trepidation, feeling as if there was no point in trying to ask what had happened for the hundredth time.

The look on her face was so timid, and she looked more like a frightened girl in that moment than she did a grown woman. She was staring right at the saiyan sadly, her blue orbs shimmering as light reflected from them.

The saiyan was taken by how vulnerable she appeared, and he found himself wanting to comfort her in spite of himself. "Bulma…" Vegeta said slowly, and he licked his lips dryly. Without thinking about it, the sides of his eyes had crinkled into a smirk that he meant to be reassuring. "Perhaps you'll cook something large so we can all eat. We wouldn't want our guests to go hungry, now, would we?"

"Is everything..." The Bluehead took his tone as affirmation that whatever had been going on was resolved, and she carefully stepped into the room. "Is everything alright?" She was biting her lower lip now.

"Of course. We can talk about this later, but right now it's getting late. Will you make us some food?" He widened his smirk then, nodding at her as he continued staring into her glossing irises. "Will you do that for us? _Bulma…_ "

He'd said her name with meaning, and hearing his tone seemed to work in calming her nerves. Her eyes softened to a much less fearful state, and her posture straightened to something far more confident and fitting of her character. "I don't know how much we have for groceries." She said. "We'll probably run out."

"That's okay. You're clever." The saiyan replied. "I know you'll come up with something good."

Bulma nodded, her lips pursed into a smile as she speed-walked through the room.

.

To say the first half of the evening meal was silent would have been an understatement. Gohan sat across from Bulma, staring down at his plate with another dazed look on his face as he picked at it. Piccolo, who had almost always been by Gohan's side up until this point, had chosen to plant himself at the far end of the table so he could calmly eat his meal with as much privacy as possible. And Vegeta, who smelled strongly of soap and shampoo from the shower he'd taken while Bulma cooked, was seated right by her side as he viciously wolfed down a countless number of plates with lightning speed.

That was the only sound at all as the four ate together - the noise of ravenous chewing and clicking of dishes as Vegeta expertly sped through his food. This was how he always ate, and the Bluehead had grown used to it by now. He always treated each meals as if he might never eat again.

Finally, after a pile of dirty dishes had accumulated at the saiyan's side, he pushed himself back from the table to signify that he was done. This was the first time that he actually looked up to see Gohan and his lack of enthusiasm for his food. "Eat, boy." He commanded the child. "You won't heal as quickly if you don't fill your stomach."

Gohan sighed, looking to Vegeta with distrustful eyes. "I'm not hungry."

"Gohan," Bulma said. "You've lost a lot of blood today. Vegeta is right, you need to eat."

"I can't..." He muttered. "I really don't feel hungry, Miss Bulma."

"Kid..." Piccolo croaked from the opposite end of the table.

Gohan looked to his mentor, shooting him an expression that said _'come on, can't_ _ **you**_ _side with me on this?'_

"Even if you aren't hungry, you need to heal so we can train tomorrow." Piccolo said, ignoring the boy's pleading face.

With a scowl and a groan, Gohan finally plopped a piece of chicken into his mouth. That single taste seemed to set off a trigger within, for only a moment later he was desperately shoveling food into his face just as fast as Vegeta had.

"See?" Bulma smiled, trying her hardest to sound comforting. She stood so she could go prepare another plate, anticipating that he'd want more. "You're just like your father was. He could never turn down cooked food."

"Just like his father..." Vegeta echoed with a growl. And once Bulma had disappeared into the kitchen, he turned on the child. "Tell me, _boy_. Did your father ever change form the way you can?"

"Change?" Gohan asked, crumbs of food flying from his mouth as he pondered.

"Swallow before you speak, boy! How barbaric!" The saiyan prince grouched, as if he hadn't just spent the last fifteen minutes gulping down his plate quicker than he was able to chew.

"What do you MEAN _change?"_ Gohan said after gulping down a mouthful of rice.

"Don't play stupid with me! I'm talking about what you pulled back there during our match!" The saiyan snapped. He was still bitter that this kid was able to do such a thing, and his anger was reawakening.

"I don't know..." Gohan froze, temporarily forgetting about his meal. He had already sworn to Mister Piccolo countless times that he never could remember what happened when he got to such a state. All he knew was that he felt as if his mind was being torn to shreds as he remembered the image of his mother being killed. And, as if jumping through a time warp, the next thing he would register was how out of breath he felt as he recovered from some inconceivable event that had just unfolded. All he could depend on during those times was Piccolo's account of what happened. And the stories he'd heard never sounded like anything he'd ever actually do…

Piccolo had told him that he'd attacked the two that had killed his mother. He'd tried to kill them in retaliation. But Gohan couldn't believe it. He'd never do something like that… He just couldn't fathom trying to actually _hurt_ someone.

Not even _them…_

"Vegeta..." Bulma's voice announced, interrupting the tension that was quickly building in the room. Gohan looked up to see the Bluehead walking to him with another plate of food. She placed it down beside the one he was still working on before returning to her seat. She turned to the saiyan then, muttering under her breath. "Let him finish eating…"

"This doesn't concern you!" The saiyan hissed in exasperation.

"Yes it does! He is the son of _my_ best friend, and I'm saying to let him _eat!"_ She hissed back.

With a huff, the saiyan crossed his arms over his chest and turned to squint at the boy. He watched closely as the child resumed the act of stuffing his face. Trying to piece together how such a thing was possible, trying desperately to find a way for it all to make sense. _This_ was the half-breed child of a low class warrior that had abandoned his mission long ago. And with all the evidence he had, Vegeta could tell that this boy had been given no prior experience to anything even _remotely_ physical.

How could _he_ be the one to achieve something that the saiyan race had presumed to be mere legend? How could _this_ child be the one to make the change?

.

The aftermath of dinner was… well, _awkward._

It took nearly two hours of scrubbing in order to clean all of the dirty dishes accumulated by the four, during which Piccolo and Vegeta had disappeared. After finishing with her work and seeing the time, Bulma decided it would be appropriate to retreat to her room for the night. As she crossed the house it took careful footwork in order to silently pass by Gohan, who had fallen asleep on the couch long before.

When the Bluehead stepped into the bedroom and carefully palmed the door shut behind her, she was hardly surprised to see that Vegeta was already sitting on her bed and looking as if he'd been waiting for her.

With Gohan lounging on the couch and Piccolo sleeping in a nearby tree outside, where else did the saiyan have to go?

He was watching her intently, his arms folded across his chest as he scowled. They hadn't been on good terms for a week. In fact, the two had hardly even spoken for four days. If anything would prove to be an icebreaker, though, it certainly was all that had occurred that evening. The Bluehead, who had been silently resenting the saiyan during their time apart, was actually feeling captivated by the soft way in which he'd spoken to her earlier…

Conflicted and confused, she broke her eyes away from the saiyan to look to the floor. Silently she went for the dresser so she could retrieve a set of thin sleepwear, running her hands over the fabric before she turned back to Vegeta. "Can I have some privacy?" She asked calmly, trying to keep her voice down so as to not wake the slumbering child that was resting just a few walls away.

"For what?" The saiyan replied.

"So I can change."

"You need privacy for that?" He scoffed. "As if I haven't seen everything already."

" _That_ was different." Bulma pursed her lips. "And you know it."

Vegeta sat back, making a large show out of putting his hands over his eyes and clearing his throat. "Your modesty is so random, but it does amuse me."

"Yes, well I'm sure you aren't used to it where you come from." Bulma huffed, pulling her shirt off over her head.

… A few moments later she had pulled on her sleepwear, a small cotton shirt to match an even smaller pair of fitting shorts. "I'm done." She announced as she scooped her dirty clothes into her arms and carried them to a hamper that was in a corner.

"What was that supposed to mean, anyway?" Vegeta spoke for the first time since covering his eyes. He brought his hands down so he could look at her, eying Bulma's figure up and down as he took in her new outfit.

"What was _what_ supposed to mean?" She asked back. She was now standing at her dressing table, running a brush through her shoulder length locks as she admired herself in the mirror.

"That comment of yours. You said I'm not used to modesty where I come from."

"Oh." She raised her eyebrows, not missing a beat as she continuing to brush her blue mane. "You know what I meant. The girls you're used to must not have cared if you watched them change. That would explain why you thought me wanting privacy was random."

" _Girls?"_ He smirked again. Vegeta raised a coy eyebrow at her observation, though she didn't see because her back was still turned. "And how many girls do you think I've bedded, Woman?"

"There's no telling, is there?" Bulma sighed. She was pulling open the top drawer of the dressing table, dropping her brush into it carefully. "I just assumed you've had your share of conquests. Going to all stretches of the universe, meeting countless women during your missions. You seriously didn't think I wouldn't be ignorant enough to not conclude that, did you?"

The mattress creaked as the saiyan rose, and he moved so fast that Bulma didn't have time to even face him. One moment she was shutting her drawer, and the next she was being thrown on the bed. Her body consequently bounced as her back hit the mattress, and she let out a small _"oomf!"_.

The saiyan was crawling over her in the next instant, his body sinking into hers as he held himself up off her torso. "And what makes you assume _that?"_ He questioned, his mouth pulled into a half-smile. His hips were pressing into her own, and the Bluehead gasped at the sensation, despite herself.

Feeling indignant, she put a hand to his shoulder. The Bluehead made an attempt to push him off of her, but his frame didn't budge at all. "Vegeta…" She whispered, still trying to keep from waking Gohan. "Stop it."

"Imagine it. I, the prince of all saiyans, carrying out missions and pillaging countless planets throughout my life. In the midst of it all I'd take any woman that I see fit. Is that what you think of me?" He was growling through his teeth. He still had that annoying grin on his face, still staring into her eyes as he pressed himself deeper against her body.

"Vegeta..." She whispered again, this time more firmly. The fact that he seemed to be getting amusement from this was nothing but frustrating. She slapped a hand on his arm as an attempt to make her point. "This isn't funny. Stop it."

"No." He replied, raising an eyebrow again. "Tell me what else you presume about me. What other scenarios do you imagine? What is it that you keep tucked away in the privacy of your mind? I want to know."

"You think this is a joke." Bulma scowled. She tried to push him off again, but with no more success than her previous attempt. "Stop it!"

"How long has it been since our last time together? A full week?" He was still smirking, but he now buried his face in the crook of her neck. One of his palms lowered to massage the back of her thigh, his lips grazing her skin. "It's interesting that you say I've been with so many women..." He continued. "Tell me... Do you want me to take you the same way you think I've done it to the others? Do you assume I took them by force? Ripped their legs apart? Had my way with them exactly as I pleased? Did _anything_ I wanted? Is that what _you_ want? Do continue with your theories, they're quite riveting..."

"I don't know!" Bulma hissed, jolting at his touch. She was quickly losing her ability to keep her voice down, her words having broken into a slight moan as he nipped her jawline. He was teasing her - _messing_ with her! Making her body writhe, whether she meant for it to or not! That in of itself was pissing her off! The Bluehead flailed her leg out from under the saiyan and wrapped it around his frame, landing a kick to the back of his hips. "If it's anything like how _we_ met, then I imagine you forced them _all!"_ She snapped. "I told you to stop! This isn't funny!"

That was it.

Bulma didn't understand why, especially since he was the one who had decided to play this twisted game and had been trying to egg her on. But what she said seemed to set something off inside of him. The smile quickly dropped from his face, and Vegeta pulled away from her neck so he could look at her. He whipped his hand away from the back of her thigh, returning it to a more respectful position. The saiyan stared down at her, and the Bluehead couldn't tell if he was angry or just deep in thought as she glared back and caught her breath.

"I _didn't_ have my way with you by force." He said firmly.

"No, you didn't. But you still _took_ me by force! Away from Goku's house! Against my will!"

He watched her for a few seconds more before speaking again. "And yet you still claim to trust me, and you were so receptive to my physical advances… You admit that you _gave_ yourself to me."

"Yes." She glared. "I know."

"Why?" He scowled. "You confess this so readily, and yet it makes no sense. Why would you be so willing with someone who has done such things?"

"Because I'm not normal!" She hissed back. "Now get off me! This stupid game of yours has already backfired, and I'm starting to get claustrophobic!"

Vegeta rolled off the Bluehead then, pushing himself back to the foot of the bed. Bulma sat up against the headboard. She was running a hand through her hair, which was already a mess after having just brushed it. "Why?" He repeated. "You are fully aware of the conditions in which we met, and yet you're so accepting of it. For someone as logical as you, that is absolutely idiotic. I can't make sense of you, Woman..."

"I already told you that I'm not normal." She huffed. Bulma was now realizing that his question wasn't just hypothetical. He really did want to know why she was so accepting of him, and it was making her cheeks flush. "I can't help it."

"You shouldn't have to even try. You should automatically be able to _hate_ me."

"I know." She replied. "And yet I don't. I don't even _dislike_ you..."

Judging by every time they'd had a similar conversation so far, the Bluehead expected her words to send Vegeta into a rage. She thought he'd surely go on another one of his rants about how cruel everyone could be, how much pain would come from trusting others, and how idiotic she was to be so naïve in such a brutal universe. She thought he might storm off to isolate himself in the gravity room for the rest of the night, to tell her to think about what she'd just said and consider the insanity of her instincts.

She imagined _some_ type of harsh reaction from the saiyan... But as Bulma watched the man across from her, all she saw was his face twist into a telling expression of realization. As if, out of all the times she'd confessed such a thing, this was the _first_ time he was actually hearing what she said. It was enough to spur her to continue…

"… I know you're only here because you want the dragon balls, and you want to find a way to defeat Frieza…" Bulma said carefully. "… I know there's so many things about you that I'll never learn, and I know that once you accomplish your goals I'll never see you again. I know you'll leave and never come back, and you'll move on to the next planet and forget about your time here... You'll find some new girl, you'll have a new goal, and your life will just… go on. Maybe that's why I'm so willing to be around you now. Because, despite all of that… And as stupid as it sounds, I _still_ find you fascinating. This is going to be the only chance I'll ever have to be with you, and I'm perfectly aware of that. I'm selfish enough to set myself up for loss… Because being with you temporarily is still better than never having known you at all."

The saiyan's frown deepened as she spoke, and his eyes began to trail over her body again. To be truthful, he looked as if he'd just been slapped in the face by something big enough to actually inflict damage. Vegeta blinked, his chiseled jaw tightening as he continued to watch the woman in front of him.

Finally, when the two had been staring at each other for so long that Bulma's head had started feeling heavy with fatigue, Vegeta spoke. "I see."

"Yeah." She replied awkwardly, wishing she could think of something to say to change the subject.

"It's getting late." He muttered, pushing himself up from the bed. "Get some rest."

"Where are you going?" Bulma asked.

"Right here." He shut the light off, and the Bluehead listened as he found a spot on the floor at the other end of the room. "I will not be sleeping on the couch with that boy."

Considering the circumstances with their guests, Bulma thought that Vegeta had actually been planning to share the bed with her.

He'd _never_ shared a bed with her, but she'd thought tonight he actually would.

Even during the nights they had spent on better terms, whenever she had fallen asleep as they lay together Vegeta had always excused himself from the room to lay on the couch. Never did he stick around long enough to fall asleep. Never had she woken to see him laying beside her, to feel his assuring presence beside her after having a bad dream.

They hadn't been on good terms all week, and Bulma now realized how much she'd been missing him. When they had been standing close to one another in the bathroom after he'd grabbed the ointment, she'd felt a welt in her stomach. All she'd wanted in that moment was to pull the saiyan down to the tiled floor of the bathroom and ask him to tell her another one of his amazing stories.

The Bluehead had hoped for a night in which they could sit up in bed and speak to each other, just like they used to, until all hostility from the week had been cleared from the air. She'd hoped that they might have been able to make up, or that she'd at least get more of an understanding about why he'd been acting so harsh in recent days…

Bulma frowned through the darkness, wondering why she was so surprised that tonight hadn't gone like that at all. "Okay, Vegeta. Goodnight."

He didn't respond, and she curled into fetal position underneath her large comforter.

They both lay in silence for quite some time, and as Bulma felt her mind being pulled further to sleep, she realized she had forgotten to ask him something that had been bothering her for hours. "Hey, Vegeta?"

"What?" His voice was raspy, and it sounded as if he were already asleep.

"What happened to you guys today? That bruise under your eye? And Gohan's leg? Was it those teenagers? Did they do that to you?"

She couldn't imagine any other scenario. It obviously hadn't been Piccolo, or Vegeta wouldn't have been so accommodating as to actually offer him a meal. It didn't make sense for it to have been anyone else other than the ones who had been on a rampage all over the world.

"No." He grumbled, and she heard the rustle of his body as he rolled over to his side. "It wasn't them. It was the kid that did it."

"What?"

"The kid. Gohan. It was him."

What in the world did _that_ mean? Bulma felt even more confused than she had in the first place. Absolutely perplexed, she was still trying to make sense of what Vegeta had said when she _finally_ fell asleep…

.

... A stern nudging was what ended up waking the Bluehead. Unlike her usual manner of trying to wave Vegeta away and telling him to give her one more hour of rest, Bulma was quick to open her eyes and sit up.

"We're going out." The saiyan said. He was standing over her at the side of the bed, and he looked as if he'd already gotten dressed before waking her.

"Where?" She yawned, arching her back as she eased into an early morning stretch.

"Into town. You said we are out of groceries, so we need to stock up."

She didn't have to be told twice. Excited at the prospect of a change of scenery, Bulma threw her blanket off and rushed to get dressed.

"I suppose you'll be wanting your precious _privacy_ again. Meet me outside." Vegeta said. She was pulling clothes out of her dresser as he walked towards the bedroom door. "I'll be waiting."

It only took five minutes for Bulma to throw on an outfit and brush her teeth. She tiptoed across the dimly lit living room, noting that Gohan was still fast asleep on the couch. And when she stepped outside she saw that the sun was still rising in the sky, and she wondered how early it must have been. Surely it wasn't any later than 8?

Just as he said he would be, Vegeta was waiting for her a few meters from the doorstep. He didn't say a word to her at all as she threw the capsule containing her car out into the grass. The two of them loaded into the vehicle, revved up the engine, and set off.

"How cool that we get to go explore first thing in the morning!" Bulma smiled once the two were in the air.

Vegeta was staring out the window, not bothering to look away from his view. "All we're doing is buying as much food as possible so we can have plenty on reserve. Don't get too excited. You know I don't like you being in that town." He grunted.

"If you don't like me being there, then why-"

" _You_ are coming with because you have a better understanding of which items to collect, and what all we'll need. If I knew anything about food I would have done it all myself, Woman. I assure you that."

"Right." She muttered, biting the inside of her cheek. Despite Vegeta's intensity, her cheerful mood refused to sour. To Bulma, shopping was _shopping._ It didn't matter if the saiyan was determined to make the trip as straightforward as possible. It didn't matter that she would only be buying food. She was still getting out of the house, wasn't she? She was still going to get to browse through aisles and stretch her legs!

In fact, the Bluehead was so excited that the smile didn't leave her face throughout the entire flight. It wasn't until she was closing in on the town and getting ready to park her car that Vegeta spoke up again. "Don't park over here. I'd rather us start our errands on the other side of side of town."

"What?" She looked to the saiyan. Now, instead of scowling out the window, Vegeta was glaring at her.

"That other side of town. Over there!" He waved his hand out in an attempt to give direction. "I want to go over there first!"

Vegeta was usually much more articulate than this. Why was he was being so vague with his instructions? Bulma had an idea of what his ulterior motive was, and her smile widened. _"Where?"_ She asked.

"Over there, dammit!" He growled. "Let's start on that side of town!"

"Okay, you aren't making much sense." She said, even though she fully understood where he wanted her to go. "I thought we were supposed to just run into the grocery store really fast. Why would I need to park my car so far away from it?"

"It's obviously because I want to make one quick stop before you go into the store!" The saiyan shot.

"I understand that, but _**where**_ are we stopping that so important?"

"The vendors." He mumbled.

"The _what?"_

"The _vendors! VENDORS,_ dammit! The _vendors!"_ He was barking now. Vegeta was being so overly defensive, and Bulma was having a hard time trying not to laugh as the saiyan yelled at her. "The ones selling all the cooked food! I want to eat! Do you understand yet?!"

"No, I still don't." She was cringing to keep the cackles retained. "You said we only have time to buy groceries, so-"

"Yes, and if I eat _now_ instead of when we get back home, then our supplies will be rationed for even longer, won't they!"

"Ahh," She nodded. Her struggle to keep from bursting into laughter had left her body trembling as she nodded violently. "I see now. Okay, we'll go to that street that had all the food stalls."

"Finally!" He grunted, easing back into his seat and folding his arms over his chest.

The car hummed as it advanced over the town, Bulma turning the wheel to correct her route. "Hey, Vegeta?"

"What is it now?"

"You sure that part of the reason for this outing wasn't because you were hungry for those kabobs this morning? I mean, I know we need the groceries, but you should admit that you really loved those kabobs."

"SHUT UP!"

.

An hour later Vegeta had stuffed his stomach to full capacity, and he now stood on the sidewalk in front of the grocery store. Looking up and down the street for any sign that danger might be looming, he was counting down the seconds until the Bluehead finished with her errand so they could finally head back.

Bulma had filled her shopping trolley to its brink with various slabs of meat, bags of vegetables, spices, and oils. A lot of what she grabbed had been items that she didn't quite recognize, not having grown up near this region. She'd gone through nearly every aisle in the store, shoveling anything that she felt even remotely confident she'd be able to cook properly into her cart.

It took nearly ten minutes to check out as the cashier calculated her quantities and the total cost. She paid the employee, loaded her arms with the countless number bags that now needed to be hauled, and turned away from the counter.

She was nearing the exit of the store when a woman stepped out from one of the aisles and blocked her path. Bulma had to stop in her tracks to keep from walking into this stranger, some of the bags nearly spilling out from her arms as she did so.

Standing in front of her was a petite lady of about the same height, with straight blonde hair that was cut just above her shoulders. She looked as if she couldn't have been any older than 19, and she was wearing a shirt that was covered in rips and stains. Her blue eyes were narrow as she looked at Bulma, and her expression was so blank that the Bluehead had a hard time guessing what this sudden interruption could have possibly been about. "Hey." The stranger said slowly. Her voice was so… _cool_ sounding, despite her abruptness… It was odd, to be sure, but the Bluehead wasn't in any mood for conversation.

Who _was_ this lady? Couldn't she see that Bulma's arms were full? The Bluehead was in a big hurry to get everything outside so she could capsulate it before it all went spilling out of her grip onto the store's floor! Wouldn't that have been obvious enough just by watching? Why would this stranger choose _now_ to decide to start a conversation?!

"I like your jacket." The lady said, not waiting to hear Bulma's reply. Her face was still so unnaturally neutral, her words quiet yet blunt. She didn't even blink as she stared into the Bluehead's eyes. "Give it to me."

"Excuse _me?"_ Bulma squawked. The heat was already flushing to her cheeks as she stepped back. _What_ did that lady _just_ ask her?!

"I said I want your jacket. I need new clothes, and I like yours. Hand it over." Once again, this girl had spoken so calmly that she sounded nearly robotic. She reached up to push a strand of her yellow hair behind her ear as she spoke. Even though she was clearly trying to be hostile, her voice was rather monotone. It matched the emotionless expression on her face perfectly well, though the fact that she hadn't yet blinked was starting to strike Bulma as disturbing. Almost as if she could read the Bluehead's mind, this blonde woman furrowed her eyebrows and continued to speak. "I've never bothered with warnings before, but I like your style, so I was feeling generous. Now, I will tell you one more time. Give. Me. Your jacket."

"You have some nerve!" Bulma spat, stepping to the side so she could bypass this rude civilian. "Can't you see my arms are full? Just so you know, _my_ jacket is a custom made representation of _my_ family's business! I'm not going to just _give_ it to you!"

And, with that, Bulma stormed out the door.

The blonde woman calmly followed the Bluehead's trail, walking to one of the store's windows. She watched as Bulma set her groceries down on the sidewalk outside and threw something at them to make her items disappear. She watched as the Bluehead approached Vegeta, her mouth running as she obviously ranted to him about what had just occurred.

"Hey... He looks kind of familiar." She muttered, wrapping a strand of hair around her finger now.

She and her brother had arrived to this podunk little town just that morning. Seventeen had wanted to just blow it all away from the sky, not thinking it was worth the time of even landing. It had taken Eighteen nearly twenty minutes to convince him to hold off. She'd been wanting a new outfit for days, and if he blew up the city then he'd just destroy any good clothes that might be laying around. She didn't want to ruin any potential finds before she had a chance to even look...

… This town's clothing stores were disgusting, and Eighteen hadn't found a single thing that caught her eye. She had wandered into the grocery store as one last effort of finding something decent before just giving up and going ahead with the rampage. It had been disappointing to see that the store only carried food - something that was absolutely _useless_ to her. She was about to take her frustrations out on the store-owner, but that was when she saw the Bluehead walk in.

It would have been easy enough to just kill her and rip the jacket off Bulma's torso, but Eighteen restrained from doing such a thing. If she did _that_ , then there was a chance the fabric would get scuffed. So instead she had decided to wait it out, to stalk her prey until the time was right.

Eighteen thought she had been reasonable with her. She'd let the woman finish her shopping. And she had asked for the jacket nicely instead of just punching her out, hadn't she? Surely that might have worked in getting her to safely hand it over without ruining the material, but that Bluehead had just been too stubborn.

Eighteen stepped back from the window and rolled her eyes, turning for the door. She'd given peaceful negotiations a chance, but that hadn't worked at all. Now she'd just have to do things _her_ way, and her precious new jacket was going to likely get stained in the process.

"That does it..." She muttered, putting her hand against the door. "…I warned her."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to get back into the swing of updating this story on a regular basis, so I hope you enjoyed these last three chapters. The next one shouldn't take too long (I don't plan on going on another month long hiatus again) but it might take a week or two. I still have a few things to figure out about how I want some of the scenes to play out. Thanks for reading and letting me know what you think! It motivates me to keep going!


	23. Unpleasant Encounters

"You _what?!"_

"That blonde bitch in there actually had the nerve to tell me to give her my jacket! What was I supposed to do?" Bulma was so worked up about the encounter she'd had in the grocery store that she was now spitting as she ranted. "Who did she think she-"

"Shut up!" Vegeta grabbed Bulma's arm, pulling her closer to him. "We need to-"

But the store's door opened then, a bell ringing to indicate as Eighteen made her exit onto the street.

"Oh, here she is now!" The Bluehead scowled, putting a hand on her hip. Vegeta was still gripping her other arm, though, and he swung her around to his backside. The jolt was so forceful that Bulma squeaked from the movement. "Hey!" She yipped.

"Shut up!" The saiyan growled. "This is-"

"Oh, it's you again." Eighteen frowned cooly as she slowly walked towards the two. Her eyes were on Vegeta rather than Bulma, her expression looking rather bored despite the circumstances. "I thought we killed you."

"Think again." The saiyan spat, taking a step forward. He cracked her neck from side to side, readying himself for the inevitable altercation that was about to unfold.

"You were fun. I could have another round with you." Eighteen said. "I'll take care of you next. But right now I want _her."_

The Bluehead was still fuming at Eighteen's audacity, but she had decided it would be best to stop running her mouth. It didn't take a specialist to piece together where Vegeta and this blonde stranger had last seen each other… It was quickly making sense, and the dread was starting to build as Bulma helplessly watched the back of Vegeta's head.

"You can't have her." He was saying now, taking another step towards Eighteen. "Tell me, harpy. Is your brother around, or did he get sick of your crooning and finally leave you to fend for yourself?"

"He's around here somewhere." Eighteen replied, and for the first time her neutral expression dropped into an angry glare. "But I don't _need_ his help. I thought I made that obvious last time when I punched through your ribcage."

"Yes, and you also thought you managed to kill me. But life is just _full_ of surprises, isn't it?"

Bulma could hear the smirk in his voice, even with his back to her. It was amazing that he had strongly emphasized just how crucial things would be if they ever encountered those teenagers, and yet he now stood so tall. The Bluehead nearly forgot just how dangerous the situation was as she watched, she was so mesmerized by the cockiness dripping from his aura.

"You're so annoying! Fine. I'll take care of you first, just to shut you up." Eighteen groaned. She looked over Vegeta's shoulder to glare at Bulma then, her eyes just as cold and distant as they had been in the grocery store. "You wait right here. I'll take care of you, soon enou-"

Eighteen didn't have time to even finish her warning. In that moment Vegeta's knee came into full contact with the side of her head, and she went flying sideways 100 meters before slamming into a light pole.

Eyes wide, Bulma watched Eighteen in awe as she flew away. It had happened so fast that the Bluehead hadn't even seen Vegeta move! He'd made it look so effortless!

"You need to hide." Vegeta's voice was hissing in her ear then, and the Bluehead jumped to realize that he was now standing right beside her. "Don't seek refuge in a building - they might all go down during this fight. Find somewhere else to hide, perhaps the woods… and stay put until I find you!"

"But-"

"Woman, I mean it! I have to keep her distracted. Now go!" Vegeta had the Bluehead by the arm now, shoving her backwards as he barked. "She's already coming back. Get out of here before the other one shows up, too!"

Just as he said, Bulma watched over Vegeta's shoulder in amazement as Eighteen pushed herself to her feet. She was already flying right for them, not even a bruise to indicate the blunt trauma she'd just received.

"Go!" Vegeta was barking, but it was already too late.

Eighteen was on them again, and her soulless eyes looked exponentially darker as she hovered above their heads. "Now, that wasn't very nice."

"You... You..." Bulma breathed. Vegeta swung around to face Eighteen again, and he balled his hands into fists as he started to raise his ki.

"You're a..." The Bluehead continued. Her mind was racing so fast that she was having trouble finding the words she wanted to use. But it was all making sense now. This woman's lifeless expression. Her monotone voice… Vegeta had always told her that the teenagers has no discernible ki, and even that was now understandable.

When Vegeta had kicked her, Bulma had watched as Eighteen's head spun around in a 180 degree rotation as she flew. And now she wasn't even winded after such a thing! It just wasn't possible for a living creature to withstand something like that!

Hell, Bulma was pretty confident that if Vegeta had experienced the same blunt force to the head, he would have at least been groaning from it! His neck would have broken!

There was no way that this blonde stranger could be so unscathed by something like that, regardless of her strength. It wasn't humanly possible…

… Bulma had read about this type of thing in her scientific magazines throughout the years, but even the science community had always played it off as mental conspiracy theories. Nobody would ever be smart enough to pull something like this off, and if such a thing was attempted it would be centuries before it was even successful.

But now, as she stared into Eighteen's eyes, there was only one explanation.

"You're-!" Bulma screamed, pointing her finger up at Eighteen. "You're a cyborg!"

"A _what?!"_ Vegeta allowed himself just one second to turn to Bulma with raised eyebrows, before he swung back around to readily face Eighteen.

"Ha." Eighteen said, but there wasn't even a smile on her face as she folded her arms across her chest. "That's the best guess I've ever received. Kudos to that. But we prefer the term _androids._ It has a better ring to it."

"Androids?!" Vegeta spat.

"Impressive." Eighteen was continuing, nodding calmly at Bulma. "Remind me to ask you how you could tell. But first, I'd like to see what your intestines look like."

And then she flew at them, a blur so fast that the Bluehead couldn't follow the movement with her eyes. All she saw was Eighteen's body lurch, and the next thing Bulma knew she was being thrown back. She thought that perhaps the Android had gotten her, but when her body hit the dirt she heard Vegeta's voice again. "RUN, DAMMIT!"

She looked up from her stomach to see that he was already gone, standing ten meters ahead. He had caught Eighteen by the hair, preventing her from getting any closer to Bulma.

"Let go of me, loser!" Eighteen was snarling, and then she turned on him. His expression strained as the android started pummeling him with her fists, but his grip on her scalp remained. "Bulma, dammit, get the hell out of here!" He was barking, his voice jumping as he received countless punches to the gut.

"Veggie..." She gasped, pushing herself to her feet. She tried to rack her brain for any ideas on how she might be able to help, but the pain shooting through her left arm was causing a delay in her thought process. She was pretty sure it was dislocated by how she had fallen on it, and her legs had burning scrapes running down her shins.

Bulma watched as Vegeta turned his back to her, finally landing a blow in where Eighteen's solar plexus would have been. The android didn't even flinch, but he was quick to land another blow on her neck. "One thing you underestimate about a saiyan..." He was grunting as he worked, still holding her by the scalp as he returned the beating she had just given him. "You may injure us, but we will always come back stronger. I am not the same weak soldier that I was the last time you saw me."

It was hard to turn away, but Bulma disappeared around a corner as she limped into a nearby alley. The sounds of the punches were fading in the distance as she pulled herself farther away, until she finally fell back into a brick wall. Using her good arm, Bulma ripped open the zippered pocket on her Capsule Corp jacket and began to run her hand through it.

' _There's gotta be something in here that can help!'_ She thought desperately, trying not to groan from the pain that was still shooting through her body as she moved. She tried to remember which capsules she had grabbed that morning before leaving - her car, an empty one for the groceries... _the crossbow_... But what would the crossbow do?! There was no way Bulma could possibly aim with her injury, and even if she could, the android would be quick enough to dodge the shot before it got her.

The Bluehead jumped as she heard a loud thud on the other street. It sounded as if someone had just been slammed into a building! Oh no - was it _Vegeta?!_

She heard Eighteen's bored laugh to indicate that her worry was true - he had been the one on the receiving end of that hit. But the Android's reaction was quickly choked off, and surely that meant that the saiyan had already recovered and was on the offense again.

Bulma pulled all of the capsules out of her pocket, and her eyes glistened to realize she had grabbed one more by glorious mistake.

' _Perhaps...'_ She thought, working to calm her breaths despite her injury. It wouldn't do much, but perhaps this one might help, at least somewhat...

She limped back over the corner of the alley, peeking out onto the street to see as Vegeta jumped back to dodge a blast that Eighteen had fired at him. Clasping the capsule with her good hand, Bulma took a deep breath.

This could easily go very wrong, but she had to do _something._ She couldn't just flee while Vegeta got himself killed…

And, before she could grow any more anxious at what she was about to do, Bulma opened her mouth. "VEGETA!" She shrieked with all of her might. "VEG-GIE!"

Vegeta, who had just shot a purple beam at the android, whipped around to hear his name coming from Bulma in such a hysterical way. Had the second android shown himself?! Had Seventeen gotten her?!

But all he saw was the Bluehead, standing alone, staring at him. "Woman!" He barked. "How many times do I-!"

But, as he shouted, Eighteen took off. "You're so annoying!" She was saying as she flew. "You _need_ to shut up!"

The Bluehead took a few steps backed into the alley, trying to remain calm. She'd known that the android was fast, but she still couldn't believe this cyborg's speed. She had predicted this reaction, and so far it was all going to plan. All she could make out was a blur of yellow as Eighteen gained on her, and Bulma knew she only had about half a second before she lost her chance. The Bluehead grit her teeth as she clicked the button on her capsule, throwing it up over her head.

"Wom-!" Vegeta had started to yell, chasing after to try and catch Eighteen before anything happened to Bulma. But he stopped in mid-air, his eyes widening at what he saw.

A net had suddenly wrapped itself around Eighteen, and she was frozen in place. Floating just about Bulma's head, the android blinked down at her dumbly. "What the…? What is this?"

It was the same net that Bulma had used to kill the flying lizard that had attacked her so many weeks ago. She knew that in just a couple of seconds it would start jolting Eighteen with electricity, and that would give her and Vegeta a chance to escape. There was no doubt that the android would not be killed by the surge, but she knew it would be enough to shock her electrical circuits. It would stun Eighteen temporarily. It would give them a few minutes to get away.

She heard the sizzle as the net began its work, and Bulma immediately started for Vegeta. "Now!" She gasped, moving as quickly as she could. "Hurry!"

The saiyan didn't need to be told twice. He flew for the Bluehead and scooped her into his arms, taking off into the sky as he went. They didn't get far, though, for Vegeta suddenly let out a loud curse and dipped back down towards the village. He landed on his feet, just a few alleys away from where Eighteen was still frying, placing Bulma beside him.

"What is it?!" The Bluehead cried. "We need to get out of here!"

"The second one. He didn't see me, but he's up there!" Vegeta snapped back. "He's on his way. We can't leave, or he'll follow us. _You_ need to hide!"

"Kami, is everything going to go wrong today?" The Bluehead hissed, but she was already looking around. All that was in this alley was a dumpster, and Vegeta had distinctly told her that seeking shelter _in_ something wouldn't do.

Suddenly, as she scanned her surroundings, Bulma's eyes fell on something that made her jump. "There!" She squeaked. She used her good arm to point at what she saw – a manhole that led into the sewer system. "I doubt they'll be able to find us _under_ the ground!" She gasped, starting to make her way towards its iron lid. "Help me open it!"

Normally it would take a crowbar to wedge open such a rusty and heavy plate, but Vegeta was able to pull it off with just one hand. A cloud hit him in the face as he lifted the lid. "Gah!"

But Bulma, who had expecting the odor, was already lowering herself in. "Hurry!" She hissed, starting her climb down the ladder. It was a challenge to do this with one hand, but it was amazing what the motivation of impending death could do! Bulma looked up at the saiyan as she maneuvered, but he wasn't following her lead.

"I'll be back." The saiyan said.

" _What?_ Vegeta, come on! You're not going to be able to beat them right now!"

"The female is incapacitated, thanks to you. I will finish her off, and then I will be back."

"Veggie, wait!" Bulma tried. She had already gotten half way down the ladder, but she was starting to climb back up. Her efforts were cut short, though, as he slammed the manhole lid shut above her head.

.

Muffled explosions and screams could be heard from somewhere up above. Bulma stood at the bottom of the ladder she'd climbed, shaking as she listened to it all. There was no telling how long she had been down there, and she hadn't moved a centimeter since finding her footing.

She was surrounded by darkness, with only a few rays of thin light that were beaming down from the small openings in the manhole lid that was ten meters above her head.

It smelled strongly of human feces down there, but she had grown used to the odor as she listened to the destruction taking place on the streets above her head. The steady sound of liquid sloshing through the sewer pipes had kept the Bluehead from wanting to take move, unsure of when and where she might accidentally step in something foul. And so she had been waiting exactly where the ladder ended, cringing each time she heard the sound of a blast or someone's yell.

"He's so stupid!" She hissed to herself, still shaking in disbelief that Vegeta had been so quick to run off and leave her down here. Did he really think he would stand a chance, even after learning what those teenagers really were? She understood his reluctance to back down, but this was just plain _dense!_

The saiyan was a good fighter, but all he would do is work himself into an exhaustion. And then what? He'd get to a point where he wouldn't be able to defend himself, and one of those androids would easily take him out.

He'd barely survived the last time he'd encountered them, but at least there had been senzu beans around to keep him alive. But, like a fool, she had left those behind in the capsule house.

What was going to happen now?

Bulma couldn't fathom the idea of anything bad happening to Vegeta, and so she tried her best not to focus on the _what-ifs._ But it was an incredibly hard thing to do when every few seconds there was another dreadful sound to make her jump.

The pain radiating from her arm was only growing worse by the second, which didn't help matters either… Each time she jolted, there would be another wave of agony that would wash over her mind, and she'd have to fight to keep from groaning out loud.

There was no telling how long Bulma had been down there, suffering in silence as her heart raced, but she finally heard another sound that made her jump – and this one was far different from the typical explosions.

Up above her head, dirt was starting to crumble down as the manhole lid was rustled out from its position. There was now enough light that the Bluehead could see her surroundings, but Bulma didn't dare look up, or else debris might fall in her eyes. Instead she scanned around her body, finding a small crook she could back into where she wouldn't be stepping in anything gross.

The darkness returned as the lid shut, and then there were stepping sounds as someone began to work their way down the ladder.

_Was it him?_

_Had he actually managed to get away?_

All she could do was silently hope that was the case, trying not to breathe as she pressed herself deeper into the stone wall she had her back against.

And then she heard it. The sound of feet hitting the ground. And then there was a groan.

"Vegeta!" Bulma breathed.

"Woman." He grunted, and the Bluehead stepped out from her hiding spot to search for him in the darkness. She could barely make out his figure with the small rays of light shining down, but the large outline of his form seemed to be the most beautiful thing she could have ever laid her eyes on.

He had been grunting as if he were in pain, but his breaths seemed to calm when he heard her voice.

"Are you okay?" She asked. She was just beside him now. She held her hand out, but stopped just before grazing his skin. She was hesitant to touch him, as if it would worsen any pain he might be in.

"I'm fine." Vegeta grunted. He had a hand clapped over a shoulder wound as he panted, but she couldn't see that. "Just pissed off."

"I'm glad..." The Bluehead sighed.

"It stinks in here." He said hoarsely, trying to keep his voice low. "It smells like shit."

"Well, we _are_ in a sewer." Bulma replied, but she nodded all the same. "It's awful."

The saiyan didn't care to explain that he didn't know what a _sewer_ was, and he dropped his head back to look up at the manhole he'd just come in from. "It's so aggravating. No matter what I do, they keep coming back as if nothing happened. She should have died twenty times by now, but they're so damned resilient!"

"It's because they're androids." Bulma replied, and this was the first time Vegeta had noticed the shaking strain in her voice. "They aren't going to feel pain, and whoever designed them knew what they were doing. They're just going to keep coming back, and they'll do it indefinitely. If we can't find a way to break their circuits, to overload whatever motherboard they have implanted, then..."

She wasn't used to talking for so long, still overwhelmed by the pain she was in. Bulma dropped her head, taking in a deep breath before continuing. "Then... perhaps maybe crushing them would also work... but… there's no telling how much weight we'd need to effectively do that. I saw what I saw. They can withstand so much..."

"Bulma." The saiyan said, and she looked up. She could vaguely make out the outline of his head, and there was no way she could see his expression. He stepped closer to her. "Are you injured?"

"I'm fine, I'm just... hurt."

Something illuminated then, her pupils constricting from the sudden light. Once her eyes had adjusted, she raised her brows to see that Vegeta was holding a ball of gold light in his hand, which was acting as a lantern. He was glaring as he looked her over, a frown planted on his jaw. "Your arm..."

"I think it's dislocated. But it'll be okay. I'm just glad it's not broken."

"Come here." He said, and then the light went out. The Bluehead had been wanting to hold him ever since this incident started, and she didn't have to be told twice. Stepping out into the darkness, she fell against his chest. His arms were immediately around her. "Bite me." He whispered. She felt his hand on the back of her head, pushing her face into the crook of his neck by his good shoulder. "Do it."

"What?" She replied, and she cringed as his hand snaked down to her injured arm. "Ah-!"

"Bite me, Bulma. As hard as you can."

Normally she would have been inspired to ask more questions about this request, but his fingers were already working into her arm and she was in too much pain to resist. Her teeth sank into his shoulder, the breaths through her nose growing shallow as she braced herself.

A second later there was a cracking sound so loud that made a white light flash across her eyes. In that moment she understood what it meant to be in so much pain that she could see stars. She lost her footing and fell deeper into his body, his arms holding her upright against him. Her teeth sank even deeper into his flesh as she exhaled a muffled whimper, clamping her eyes shut from the recoil of it. Kami, he had just popped her arm back into its rightful place, but the pain was still radiating through her bones and leaving her latched to his shoulder as she groaned. If anything, it was actually hurting worse.

His arms wrapped around her again, pulling her closer into his body as she trembled. Sucking on him as if this would take away the excruciating pain that was trickling through her core, she was groaning as she fought back the need to shout out loud. After a minute of this, she felt enough confidence to raise her weakened arm and wrap it around his neck. Finally she broke her teeth away from his shoulder, pressing her forehead against his skin instead.

"Oh god..." She breathed, sweat having formed at her temples. It was amazing that she could feel so relieved, and yet even more injured at the same time.

Suddenly she felt Vegeta's fingers on her chin, pulling her face up from his shoulder. Somewhere in this dark space were his lips, and they found her mouth only a second later. His kiss was so warm as they hugged one another, temporarily working to make her forget about what she'd just gone through. He was pressing his mouth against her with so much force, as if doing this would take all the pain away. And, as she returned the gesture, it did.

No longer was she thinking of how wretched she felt. No longer was she an anxious bundle of gasps. In that moment she was instead thinking about Vegeta, and how glad she was to be with him again, and how relieved she was that he was alright. Her tongue found its way through the crease of his lips, and he gave it an affectionate suckle before pulling away. "Better?" He breathed, and she nodded against his neck.

"It's because I threw you, Bulma. I knew you'd get hurt, but I had to. She was coming for you, and I-"

"She would have killed me." The Bluehead interrupted. "I appreciate it. I'm okay, I'm alright, I-"

"Are you..." He muttered. "... Are there any other injuries?"

"My legs were bleeding - I don't know if they still are. But they're just scratched up, it'll heal."

The saiyan let out a deep breath of air, as if he was relieved he wasn't going have to go through popping one of her limbs back into its socket again.

Any mental celebrations he was doing was cut short when a loud crashing noise erupted over their heads. Bulma jumped, but his arms were still around her, and they worked to immediately soothe her from the startle. Something had just exploded in the street above where they stood, but for now she and him were still unfound.

It was conflicting to know that so many people were currently being slaughtered while she stood safe. Was it wrong to be relieved that they were still undiscovered, when so many people were dying over their heads? Her shoulders sank against the saiyan as she sighed, and his arms loosened from around her. "Let's find a different place." He suggested quietly, stepping back from Bulma so he could illuminate a ball of power in his hand again...

.

... The sewer was wet and foul, a stream of soiled liquid flowing through each corridor. Thankfully it was large enough that Vegeta was able to hover through the system without having to actually step foot in the muck, holding Bulma in his arms as he went. A few minutes later they had found a clean ledge of concrete to sit on, free from the disgusting black river that was flowing just a few meters in front of them.

Sitting with her back against the stone wall, Bulma was staring into the distance as Vegeta sat beside her. He was still holding the golden ball in his hand so they wouldn't be in absolute darkness, glaring at his legs as he quietly considered all that had just occurred.

"How long do you think it'll be before they leave?" Bulma finally asked softly, breaking the silence.

"They won't go until they've killed everyone. And we should wait a couple of hours after that to be sure they've made plenty of distance." The saiyan replied sullenly.

"I assume you'll be monitoring ki of all the civilians to know when it's over..." How morbid such a thought was, and the Bluehead had to close her eyes as she said it.

The saiyan nodded, not looking at her as he continued his brooding. A few more minutes passed in silence, as Bulma stared at the light reflecting off the black river.

"Hey, Vegeta?"

"What?"

"Since we're going to be down here for a while... I was wondering... Last week when you were acting so angry towards me. Why-"

"Let's not get into that..." Vegeta sighed, his head falling back to rest against the wall. He didn't care to tell Bulma about the dream he'd had, which predicted the Androids coming across this town. Originally he didn't want to tell her, to describe the horror of what had happened to her in his imagination. To admit how distraught such a nightmare had made him. But now he couldn't tell her for an entirely new reason, because then he would be admitting that he should have known better than to assume they could stock up on groceries that morning without incident…

That dream hadn't been all that had been bothering him, though. There was something else that had been lingering on his mind for some time, causing his moods to fluctuate as rapidly as the dream did. And now that he was thinking of it again, it was suddenly all he could focus on. He had been holding off on saying anything, but in that moment he decided he could do that no longer.

"Woman." He growled. His mood was already dropping, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he found a new spot on his knee to stare at.

"What?"

"I wish you would be more straightforward with me. I have been waiting to see when you would tell me on your own accord, but it doesn't seem like that is going to happen any time soon."

Bulma turned to look at him, only to see that he was deliberately avoiding eye contact. "What do you mean?"

"I noticed a change in your ki quite some time ago. Initially I thought that it was perhaps due to the stress you've been under, but as days passed I realized the truth of the situation. I've been waiting for you to tell me, but it seems you've had no plans to do such a thing."

"What?" Bulma straightened her posture, pushing herself forward from the wall. "I haven't been keeping anything from you, Vegeta. I don't even know what you're talking about! What do you _mean_ my ki changed?"

"You feel sick." He growled, and it was then that he looked up to meet her gaze. "You've been sick for weeks. If I can tell that from your aura, there's no way you don't know. Don't try and act the fool to me, Woman. Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"

"Vegeta." The Bluehead said more firmly. Heat was rising to her cheeks, but she was trying to keep from getting too defensive. They were going to be stuck in this sewer together for who knows how long. They didn't need to end up in another fight. "Tell me what you mean. I haven't been sick. I know you say I feel like that, but look at me. You know I've been fine. I haven't even sneezed in weeks."

He narrowed his eyes at her as she spoke, as if trying to detect any sign of a lie. It seemed he was unsuccessful with this, for his look of accusation softened - if only by a small amount. "You really don't know?"

"Dammit, Vegeta, I keep saying I don't. I don't know what you're talking about at all! I wish you'd just tell me."

He cocked a brow, leaning back as he continued studying her expression. He seemed to believe that she wasn't lying, though he still looked suspicious. Finally, after he decided that she really was telling the truth, he spoke. "Your ki changed. Weeks ago. It is the same, but almost as if there is a barrier that is diluting it. I thought it was from stress when it started, but it has not stopped. You still feel different to me right now, even as I speak."

"I don't know how to read ki, remember?" She replied. "I don't understand what any of this is supposed to mean."

"One day I woke up, and I reached out for you. I found your ki, in that room of yours, like I always do. But there was another one with you. It was subtle and weak, but it was there. You were alone when I went in to wake you, yet there was still a second ki lingering in your exact spot. That is when it all began to make sense. That is why your own aura had become dimmer... It all made sense..."

They were sitting together in a sewer, the only source of light coming from Vegeta's palm. Hundreds of people were being killed over their heads as they muttered together, and they were surrounded by the putrid odor of sewage water. Bulma's arm was still aching from its earlier dislocation, her legs burning from where they had been skinned raw. Vegeta was sporting a shoulder wound that had only recently stopped bleeding, and she had no way of knowing if he was hurt anywhere else.

She didn't know how long they would be sitting in this way, and this... _This_ was the situation in which she learned she was pregnant with her first baby. It took nearly a full minute of repeating his words in her head before she even understood it. And it took another full minute for it to start sinking in, disbelief building a lump in her throat.

Vegeta had gone back to glaring at his leg with avid determination, having seen the look of shock on her face before he turned away. It was clear that Bulma _really_ hadn't known, and he didn't understand how. It was a bit of a condolence to learn that she hadn't been deliberately keeping things from him, but he still couldn't fathom how someone could be growing a living creature in their own body and be completely ignorant to it.

He felt as her fingers found the top of his hand, searching desperately for something to hold. He reached out for her ki and was instantly hit with an overwhelming sensation of dread. She was panicking. Bulma was far from happy about this.

"So... you knew, and you didn't say anything." Her nails traced over his knuckle.

"I was waiting for you to tell me. I assumed there was no way you weren't aware of your own condition."

"And... how did you feel... during that time?" Her ki was rising as she spoke, as if she were on the verge of becoming enraged. Vegeta had to shut her aura out to keep his heart from starting to pound along with it. "Is that why you were being so hostile last week? Because you wanted _me_ to be the one to bring it up? You couldn't have just told me?"

"I told you that I was upset about the risks that came with our outing, and that was no lie." Vegeta cut in. "And I'm not happy about this, either. I've never wanted to sire an offspring. I've always done all I can to prevent that."

She took in a deep breath at hearing this. She pulled her hand away from his own, wrapping her arms around her legs now. "I figured..."

"What about you?" He growled.

"Me?"

Vegeta cleared his throat. "What do you think of it?"

"My planet is suffering from its apocalypse, my family is dead, I am living in a one bedroomed capsule home with three other people, and I can't even go out to buy groceries without almost getting murdered. I'm not exactly jumping for joy that an innocent child is being brought into the picture."

"And what about what you said last night?"

"Vegeta, I'm kind of in a state of shock right now. Be more specific with me, I can't keep guessing what it is you're referring to."

"What you said about me leaving Earth after I accomplish my goals. Do you still feel just as accepting of that after learning this news?"

She didn't respond, but Bulma tightened her hug around her legs. She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead into her knees, taking in a deep breath.

"Once I achieve my goals and return your planet to the state it was in months ago. When I defeat those Androids and leave you here to go after Frieza. If we never meet again, you will be okay with that? You will not resent having to raise my kin on your own?"

"Well..." She thought for a moment. After a few seconds of silence, she sighed. "What does it matter if I'm okay with it or not? What choice do I have?"

"You do have a choice." He grunted. "I have never wanted a child, but I have put thought into the matter. I am not going to force termination. I will leave that up to you."

She raised her head up when he said this, turning to get a good look at him. The expression on his face was absolute grim, but he continued. "You know things will only be harder if this baby is born. The infant will likely suffer. If Frieza ever knew that I have an offspring somewhere..."

"I know." She said. Despite all of the rage and hurt that was welling inside, she reached out and took his hand again. "You've already had time to process things, but this is still fresh to me. I understand everything that can happen because of this... I know how complicated things will get... But I can't talk about that right now... So please..."

He gave her hand a squeeze, nodding solemnly. "I just need to make sure you know all that will ensue." Vegeta was still acting as if he were on edge as he resumed his silent glare at his leg. But to Bulma, something about his body language seemed much more relaxed. As if it really was a load off his chest to finally discuss this with her. She watched him in the golden light, her muscles shaking as she considered all they had been through in just that day alone.

' _I'm not happy about this,'_ His words replayed in her head. He never had wanted to father a child. Bulma wasn't surprised by this, especially considering all that she knew of his history. He'd told her before that he would eventually die as the last living saiyan. He'd already planned the extinction of his race.

And still, she couldn't stop replaying that statement in her head. Even as they held each other's hand, she couldn't shake that quote away.

He'd never wanted to be a parent.

She'd never been opposed to having a baby, herself. But to be truthful, she hadn't really given the matter much thought. It wasn't something she had particularly been prepared to do any time soon.

Neither of them had been planning this, yet they hadn't done anything to prevent it. Had Vegeta considered that? Did he feel just as responsible in that moment as she did? Was he aware that this had been their own doing, and they had nobody to blame but themselves?

Was that why he was being rather calm about it now? In the time he had spent wallowing about this on his own, had Vegeta accepted this for what it was?

All she knew was his opinion on being a father. And, according to what he'd just told her, he was still planning to leave... Once all was said and done, he wanted to go. Evidently the baby wasn't going to change that for him in the slightest.

And, as she thought that, a wave of grief washed over her so strongly that she had to take in a sharp breath. She had always told herself that he was going to someday leave, but for some reason it was really hitting her now.

"Shit…" Bulma muttered, but the saiyan didn't reply. She realized she had zoned out while staring at the foul river flowing in front of them, and he hadn't said a word during that time.

She wasn't sure if it was in response to her obscenity, but he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his frame. As conflicted and emotional as she was in that moment, this gesture felt like the only thing that made sense. She sighed as she sank deeper into him, nuzzling her head under his chin. She could feel his fingers in her hair as she stared ahead at the disgusting river of feces that was still flowing in front of her, and she tried to blink back the wetness that was forming in her eyes.

Suddenly this river seemed rather suiting of her current predicament. And it went perfectly well with her word of choice, too.

Quite literally, Bulma was finding herself to be in some rather deep _shit._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't exactly consider fighting scenes to be my strongest suit, so it was a challenge for me to write this chapter. I hope you weren't disappointed in it. Thank you for reading!


	24. Sharing is Caring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was anyone else surprised at Vegeta's demeanor during the pregnancy announcement? I have had fun exploring this version of him. We all know that in canon he and Bulma didn't always get along and had to work through some undisclosed issues. While I started planning his personality for this story I truly felt that, in many ways, he would be much less hostile with her than they were in canon. The main reason primarily being that there is no Goku to compete with, no resentment that Goku was able to put up a better fight against Frieza, no feelings of being usurped, or any of that.
> 
> This version of events shows a side to him that could have developed had he never met Goku, because as we know by now Raditz never reached his destination. Vegeta only went to Earth because he was specifically scoping out planets to consider retreating to for whenever he finally would be able to overthrow Frieza. It was because he specifically wanted to go, and not by necessity or by means of revenge.
> 
> In this version he has had a few extra years at failed attempts of defeating Frieza, has lost Raditz to a random explosion (where IS Nappa, by the way?) This version of Vegeta had gotten to a point where he was still trying to overthrow Frieza, but basically accepted that he might not ever overthrow accomplish this. Regardless of that, he still believed that he was going to die scorned and alone.
> 
> This is when he met Bulma. They came together because he saw her as useful at the time, but it was still essentially his choice. No harbored feeling about Goku, no jealousy or payback to keep him distracted. From the start she has been helpful to him, and he has felt responsible for her. That alone left him more open to developing feelings for her, and I think any repercussion of those feelings are easier for him to accept because he was so much more open to it.
> 
> Different circumstances = different Vegeta = different reactions to life events. It's clear he's got it in for her, even though it's unspoken on his part... and he doesn't seem to want to actually tell her that anytime soon…

* * *

"I swear, we've been down here for like five hours already…" Bulma's stomach was growling, and she was starting to feel cranky.

No more commotion could be heard from the ledge where the two were still sitting, but Vegeta hadn't yet announced the "okay" that it was safe to leave. She rearranged herself against the saiyan prince, letting out a small groan as she did so. They hadn't stopped holding each other that entire time, and she was now starting to get a cramp in her neck.

Bulma had spent most of her time zoning in and out of anxious thoughts about a growing child. Images of a small watermelon seed, vines slowly creeping from its shell as it grew, kept flashing across her mind. She was trying to make sense of everything - how far along was she likely to be? She was pretty sure that it couldn't be any more than two and half weeks, at the _most_... Had there been _any_ potential symptoms that she had just overlooked at this point? Was it really even _possible_ for her to be pregnant so soon? How long had Vegeta actually known? From the way he described it, he had been aware for weeks. Had he been able to sense the baby since Day 1?

He hadn't told her very much, other than the fact that he'd never wanted kids. He'd been rather calm about it, though, and it was obvious that he had already reached some sort of resolve on the matter… but what had his conclusion actually been? What did he _truly_ feel about it, even in that moment?

What had his first thought been when he'd learned about this? For some reason she wished she could have shared the moment with him when he found out, and the fact that she hadn't felt like a loss…

It was all she could think about in between the small conversations she'd been having with Vegeta. The saiyan hadn't been speaking very much, but when he did open his mouth it would be to say something unusual that was sure to peak the Bluehead's interests. The most notable thing he had told her was of something he said had been plaguing his mind lately - a tale which he simply referred to as _"the legendary super saiyan"._

He had described a super saiyan to her as a saiyan who had reached a power so high that they needed another physical form just to contain the energy. He'd told her that it was a tale from his home planet - one that everyone knew. Apparently, the last reports of actually encountering a super saiyan were over a thousand years old, which was so far back in history that the concept was regarded as a mere legend…

Despite his descriptions, it was hard for Bulma to completely grasp the idea of what he was explaining to her. All she could picture, when Vegeta had described the concept of changing form, was the Oozaru transformation that she had seen so many times before. She didn't completely understand what set a super saiyan apart from the Great Ape, especially with no imagery or further theories to go off of. The Bluehead had asked why this was so prevalent on his mind, but Vegeta had refused to answer…

Now they had been silent again for another immeasurable amount of time, and Bulma's mind was creeping back to what was growing in her womb…

"Hey, Vegeta?" Her question abruptly broke the silence between them, her cheek grazing his chest as she spoke.

"What?"

"About the stuff you told me earlier... you know, my... _condition_..."

"What of it?"

"Well I messed up my arm pretty bad when you threw me earlier..." Bulma paused to search for words, knowing that there wasn't a good way to ask what she was wondering.

They had been loosely holding one another, and when she said this his muscles tightened around her. It was as if it irritated Vegeta to remember such a thing, even though it hadn't occurred very long ago. "What about it?" He replied, and even his voice was now sour.

"Well, do you think _it's_ okay after all that? The baby, I mean-"

"I have not detected any change in its ki, no." It was clear that this was the last thing he wanted to discuss.

Bulma found herself wondering if it was the thought of the baby being hurt that was putting him in this mood, or if it just was the memory of the fight that did it. "To be fair, its ki hasn't been very strong to begin with. It is still very early on, you know. But there has been no change, so I have no reason to believe that it isn't alright."

"Okay." She breathed. There was a relief inside in knowing this, and she sighed as she adjusted her posture again. Now there was a cramp in her right glute! She was getting tired of sitting, but with nowhere to go there wasn't any point in trying to stand.

"You keep squirming." Vegeta grumped, biting the inside of her cheek as her arm accidentally slapped against his face. "It's maddening."

"I can't help it. I'm really uncomfortable!"

"So am I, and it _still_ smells like shit in here." The saiyan growled. Vegeta had been in a terrible mood the entire time they'd been sitting together, though he had tried to hold back on taking it out on the Bluehead beside him. Even in that moment, as they spoke of his unborn kin, he was still fuming from the earlier fight with Eighteen...

… Even after Bulma had rattled her with that electric net, she still had been impossible to take down! He'd had to reduce himself to fleeing once Seventeen showed up, and he _hated_ it! Vegeta had been focused on this the entire time they'd been sitting on that sewer ledge, and still he couldn't come up with any ideas on what he was supposed to do to destroy those cyborgs. He'd tried it all, everything he had learned in all his years, and the two still laughed in his face as if it had all been nothing more than a joke...

"What are we going to do?" Bulma groaned. "This is worse than having to sit in the capsule house all day while you train. At least _then_ I was able to look out the window and get sunlight! At least _then_ I was able to take a bath!"

"Get ahold of yourself, it hasn't been _that_ long!" Vegeta hissed, but he could understand why she would be feeling so antsy. In the back of his mind he'd been pretty excited to go home and take a shower, himself... Trying to think of something to take their thoughts away from this foul place they were sitting in, he settled on speaking the only thing that would come to his mind. "Hey..."

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of the legend I told you about?" He was now shifting his weight just as Bulma had been. "Do _you_ believe that a super saiyan can exist?"

"Well..." She mumbled, scratching a small bug off her arm. _Wait - was that an ant? She didn't know there were ants in sewers! What other gross creatures were lurking down here?!_ Bulma took a deep breath, trying not to let her mind trail so dramatically. "It's…" She turned to Vegeta, and she dragged her fingertip down his bicep. "It's been over a thousand years since one was supposedly seen, so I honestly think the story is a bit farfetched."

"Oh?" Vegeta raised an eyebrow, trying not to smirk. If only Bulma knew that he had come face-to-face with one just a day prior. If _only_ she knew that it had even been the half-breed son of Kakarot...

"Yeah, but those stories were obviously based off _something_ , so I wouldn't exactly call it impossible." She leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. He raised his eyebrows and looked at her, noting how soft her face looked as it lit up with a smile. "You know, you're pretty amazing." She continued. "I think if anyone could achieve something like that, it would definitely be you."

"Good answer." Vegeta smirked. And then his hold around Bulma tightened, pulling her against his body as he leaned back. She wrapped her arms around his torso, letting herself fall against the firm of his chest. She lay in his arms, looking up at his dim face in the darkness, and watched his chiseled features as he stared straight ahead…

.

… Somehow, despite the humid fumes of sewer waste, and in the aftermath of their rocky day, Bulma had fallen asleep. She woke up when Vegeta started carrying her out of the sewer, but she was groggy until the wind was hitting her in the face during their flight home.

It was night by the time they made it back to the capsule house. The exact hour was uncertain, but Gohan had already fallen asleep on the couch when Vegeta and Bulma walked in.

The Bluehead was so excited to be home, though, and she could hardly care about whether or not she might bother the boy. Taking in a big breath to swallow the fresh aroma of the capsule home, Bulma kicked her shoes off and immediately made a dart for the bathroom.

"Oh, no you don't!" She heard Vegeta say, and she nearly lost her balance when he appeared right in front of her. He had his back to her, blocking the Bluehead from entering the tiled room. "You stay here." He ordered. " _I'm_ taking a shower _first!"_

"Hey!" Bulma started, but she quickly stopped. She could hear Gohan groaning as he rolled over on the couch. The Bluehead chased the saiyan into the bathroom, both struggling to make it through the door at the same time. "This is _my_ house!" She snapped hoarsely, shutting the door so the two could have more privacy during this dispute.

"I've been sitting near Earthling shit for nearly 20 hours." Vegeta said back, rather matter of factly. "I won't wait another minute to clean the fumes from my skin."

Truth be told, Bulma was taken aback at how urgent Vegeta was to get cleaned up. She assumed he would have been desensitized to nearly everything at this point in his life. But, then again, he _was_ a prince. Perhaps the need for pampering was so deeply engrained within that even a lifetime as a callous beast couldn't take away the repulsion of being near so much fecal waste…

Her thoughts were cut short, though, when she noticed that the saiyan was already starting to pull his shirt off.

"Not fair!" She jumped. "I've been looking forward to this _all_ day! I want to shower right _now_ so I can go lay down! _Vegeta!_ Listen to me!"

But he was starting to slide his pants off now, and the Bluehead was quickly realizing that he had no intention of reconsidering his actions. Taking advantage of the fact that he was still in the middle of getting undressed, Bulma ran around him to launch herself into the tub. She let out a silent cheer of victory, pulling the shower curtain closed around her as she did so.

"Woman..." Vegeta cracked from the other side of the curtain.

"No! This is _my_ shower! _Mine!"_ In one swift movement Bulma pulled both her shirt and bra up over her head. She threw them over the curtain to emphasize her point. And, as if to mark her territory, she was already turning on the tap while she simultaneously began to unbutton her shorts.

"I don't _care_ what is yours, I shall not wait any longer!" His voice grouched, and then the curtain flew open.

Bulma stood, somehow both stunned and pissed, as the naked saiyan stepped in and pulled the curtain shut again. _"Hey!"_

"Oh, don't start getting all conservative about needing privacy with me again. You're carrying my damned child, Bulma! It's not like there's anything left to hide!" Vegeta grabbed a bar of soap from the side shelf. "Now turn that shower on, before I lose my patience for sharing and kick you out altogether!"

Biting her lip to stifle a curse, the Bluehead finished removing her remaining clothes before throwing them over the curtain to join her shirt. She turned another nob, triggering the water to start streaming from the shower head instead of the bath faucet. In an instant the two were soaked, Bulma's shoulder length hair suddenly growing even longer from the saturation.

"There. Wasn't so hard, _was it?"_ The prince cracked, and Bulma turned around to get a good look at him for the first time.

Fist shaped bruises were lining his stomach, clearly from where Eighteen had been pelting him. There was a gaping hole in his shoulder, a rip in his abdomen. Dried blood was melting off his body as he massaged the soap into his skin, a pool of rust-colored water forming at their feet. "Jeez," She began, her face crinkling from the sight. "Are you _okay?"_

"Why wouldn't I be?" He growled. "Now step aside and let me rinse."

They quickly switched places so he could stand directly under the shower head, his hands balled into fists as the water poured into his wounds. Bulma stood at the back of the tub, shyly rubbing soap onto her shoulders and staring at the chiseled man in front of her as he worked.

It almost seemed as if she was looking into some fictional character's diary as her eyes glossed over the muscle tone in his back. Was this really _her_ life at that moment? Was she _really_ bathing with this man in that moment? He was so stunning as he worked, so breathtakingly fit from head to toe…

The sounds of the cocky taunts he'd made towards Eighteen replayed in her head as she watched this piece of art in front of her, and she couldn't help but feel some heat rushing to her cheeks. The way he had been so protective of her, the way he had willfully allowed the android to beat on him _just_ so he could buy Bulma time to get away…

How was it that _she_ of all people was standing before this man? Quite literally, he could have had anyone in the universe that he wanted. And here he was, with her, and they were even _bathing_ together…

She knew that they were from two separate worlds. She knew that they hadn't met under the greatest circumstances, knew that they might never speak again in just a few months' time, and yet Bulma still felt incredibly lucky. Vegeta looked as if he were modeled after one of the notorious Greek gods, and he seemed just as powerful, too. He was so stoic and calculated in his behavior, and yet he had shown so much tenderness towards her, and on so many occasions. There truly would never be another person like this man, and Bulma promised herself that she wouldn't be taking any of these small moments they shared for granted.

Tired and achey, neither of the two cared to prolong their time under the water. And when the tap got shut off Bulma had been quick to make for the bedroom. She pulled a small silk nightie on and climbed under the blankets, even as Vegeta still ran a towel through his hair in the other room.

And, minutes later when he walked in, he was quick to shut off the light.

Bulma had barely gotten a chance to look at him before everything went dark. And she listened for the sounds of him finding another spot on the floor to sleep on, but she was surprised when she felt the mattress dipping instead.

_Now, on top of everything else, he was actually choosing to share a bed with her?_

"I spent the entire day laying on soiled concrete. It is right that I should sleep here tonight," He growled, as if he could sense Bulma's surprise.

And then he lay on his side at the very edge of the bed, with his back turned to the Bluehead in silence. It was as if he was trying to be as far away from her as possible, and she was almost offended by that. They'd spent the entire day holding each other, hadn't they?

Why be so distant now?

But, as she lay and listened to his breathing, everything replayed in her head yet again. This time, however, she didn't just remember all that had occurred in the last 24 hours. Bulma thought back to nearly everything - every moment she had shared with the saiyan up until this point.

She remembered the hostility between them when they'd first met, the strange obstacles that had somehow worked to break the ice. Bulma remembered what Vegeta had said to her the night he'd nearly died. How he regretted bringing her into this, how she had the right to her own bed… He made jokes about it, but he really did take giving her privacy into consideration, didn't he?

And, as she stared at where she imagined Vegeta's shoulders to be in the dark, she was hit with everything all over again.

"Don't stay so far from me!" She hissed, though she wasn't being serious. She scooted closer the saiyan under the sheets, until she softly met the flesh of his back.

He didn't reply, and Bulma reached out to wrap her arms around him. His skin was so soft to the touch, and it didn't take long for the Bluehead to realize he hadn't bothered with getting dressed at all. She was spooning him from behind, her body pressing against his own, and when her arms clasped around his chest he put a hand up to settle on her wrist.

She was leaning her forehead into the creases of his upper back, her fingers clinging affectionately to his chest. Vegeta's hand was still holding one of her wrists, and she listened as he let out a deep breath. "Don't get used to this." He muttered groggily, but the Bluehead knew even then that they were going to go to bed like this each night from now on. "I'm taking my couch back from that little twerp tomorrow… I refuse to continue sleeping on the floor. _He's_ the one who should be doing that!"

"I think you did a good job against that android today." Bulma replied, completely rerouting the discussion. "If she'd ever managed to land a finger on me, I wouldn't have stood a small chance. But you gave her hell, and I saw it… You were amazing."

His hold on her wrist tightened when she said this, and he sighed. "I never want to see you that close to her again."

He had a point - a very good one, at that. But still, at that moment she was safe, and even with the severity of the topic, it was hard to feel anything other than cozy against him. Hearing the concern in his voice only made Bulma smile, once again thinking of how amazing it was that he was so protective of her.

"You did good." He continued. "Your quick thinking – and that net you through at her. I never want to see you having to do any of that again, but it was admirable."

"Okay." Bulma replied, still grinning against his shoulder blades.

"I mean it..." He continued, though his voice was fading as if he were drifting to sleep. "I don't like you being on battleground..."

"I know..." She replied, and the smile on her face was fading, along with his voice, as she drifted to sleep at the same time as him…

.

Two weeks later saw Bulma groaning with an ice pack over her forehead. She was laying in bed, the curtains drawn over the window to keep the room dark. It seemed as if she'd had a migraine for three days straight at this point, and the only reason she intentionally got out of bed was to empty her nausea into the toilet.

It was strange that she had felt perfectly fine up until Vegeta had told her that she was pregnant. It seemed as if it was only the next day when the Bluehead started feeling the absolute worst she'd ever had in her life. What a cruel joke it was to be so hungry, yet throw up almost anything she tried to put in her mouth. But that was what the last two weeks had consisted of for her, and it didn't seem as if it was going to end any time soon.

Vegeta had been keeping himself busy with Gohan and Piccolo, the three staying locked in the gravity room for nearly every hour of each day. Bulma had hardly seen any of them at all, except for occasional moments in the evening, when she might run into someone on her way to the bathroom.

If she wasn't bent over the toilet, the Bluehead was most certain to be found laying in bed. She'd tried several times to trick her stomach into digesting food, but she had long ago given up on something like that. Her days flew by as she slept the sun away. And at night she would wake just as Vegeta crawled under the blankets with her, and they would speak briefly for a few minutes before she would fall back asleep.

"What's with you?" Vegeta had asked on one of the first nights, after Bulma had wrapped her pale arms around his chest and he felt how weak they were. "How did you get so debilitated so suddenly?"

"I feel like I have an alien living in my body..." She had groaned mindlessly, not wanting to open her eyes despite the fact that the room was already dark.

"So?" The saiyan replied. "You _do…"_

One night, Bulma had felt well enough to sit up completely when Vegeta came in. She had reminded him that they needed to resume their search for the dragon balls. "We only need two more, Vegeta. Don't you think we should finish collecting those before you keep training?"

"…And if those androids jump us again while we are out, then what? Will there be another sewer conveniently located nearby for us to hide in?" He'd grumped. "I need to keep training so that I can finally defeat them, and we can continue on with peace."

"But you aren't _going_ to beat them like this, I already told you that. We can collect the dragon balls and _at least_ wish them into being human, don't you think? At least _then_ they wouldn't be invincible, and all your training wouldn't be in vain."

"They aren't _invincible,_ Woman! I just need to adjust my strategy! And like _hell_ am I going to waste my wish on such scum! My wish will be used on _myself,_ and _myself_ only." The saiyan spat, and that was that. Bulma didn't have the energy to get invested in a large argument that had the potential to go on for days. She'd tried to reason with him several times, but he had always been resistant. If she had been feeling more like herself, she might have been more assertive. But her head was chronically killing her, her breaths shallow when she spoke, and she completely didn't have the energy for it.

And now, two full weeks after the encounter with the androids, she remained in bed as the world spun around her. If she could even form thoughts without her brain throbbing in retaliation, Bulma most likely would have been thinking "man, being pregnant _sucks…"_

...

Vegeta stood with his back against the wall in the gravity room, his eyes shut as he focused on his own ki. Ever since learning of Gohan's ability to transform, the saiyan prince had been trying to dig within himself to find a key to the change.

With all he knew about super saiyans, it seemed that the only thing he _could_ do was focus on raising his own power to an unfathomable level. That was what it seemed like the kid was doing, anyway. All that happened when Gohan did it was raise his ki until it reached a certain tipping point that initiated the change…

It was such a simple concept, wasn't it? But, no matter how hard Vegeta tried, he'd never been able to manage such a thing. It was infuriating, it was emasculating, and the saiyan just could figure out what he was doing wrong.

Even at that precise moment, as Vegeta silently focused on elevating his own ki, Gohan was on the other end of the gravity room in his super saiyan state. His hair a flame of yellow, the boy was working through a series of pushups as Piccolo coached him on. "Good." The mentor was saying, slow nods of approval as he counted the boy's reps.

It had taken a lot of time and concentration, but it seemed that Gohan was finally understanding how to transition into a super saiyan without absolutely losing his mind in the process. The threat of getting his tail yanked had been motivation enough to keep a part of himself sober during these times, but it had also been Piccolo's voice.

More specifically, it had been his words. The words that Piccolo had been saying to him ever since they'd met. They were the words that Gohan would remember when he started to feel as if all hope was void.

During the moments when Gohan's skin felt as if it would melt off, and he screamed his way through the explosive transition, he would remind himself of Piccolo's words.

_"It will be alright."_

Piccolo had told him this so many times since they had started training together, but now more than ever did such a phrase resonate. "Remember what I tell you during the madness, kid." He had said to going Gohan one day, after another failed attempt at becoming super saiyan without also becoming feral. "Remember… Even if it doesn't feel like it, everything is going to be alright."

Even now as Gohan worked, Piccolo was standing over him and muttering words of approval, which only encouraged the boy further.

"You're getting good at this, kid."

Gohan reached the last rep in his set of pushups, and he pushed himself to his back as he gasped. The gravity machine was set to 60, and he was still having a hard time adjusting to the added pressure. "Do you think I can actually do this, Mr. Piccolo? I can barely breathe."

"You'll be alright." Piccolo replied, his arms folded over his chest as he looked over the boy. "Catch your breath, and then I want to see you fly another 200 laps around this room. Try to do it in under 30 seconds this time."

 _Great._ Out of everything they made him do, Gohan was pretty sure the _laps_ were his least favorite. Piccolo and Vegeta said he needed to do it so he could increase his speed, but that didn't make them any more tolerable. Gohan powered down as he groaned through a muscle cramp in his arm, his spikey hair returning to its naturally black state.

"What have we told you?" Vegeta's voice cracked from across the room, making the boy jolt. "Don't do that!"

"But, Mr. Vegetaaa!" The child tried, not bothering to even sit up as he began to argue his case.

"Don't you even attempt your whining with me!" Vegeta snapped. "If my plan is going to work then you _must_ be used to long term exertion in your legendary state. Now power back up and start your laps. Right now."

"But-!"

"NO!" Vegeta barked. Piccolo stepped back as the saiyan prince began to snarl, the green mentor shaking his head.

"Power back up, NOW!" Vegeta shouted. "And as a reward for your lip, you will now fly 250 laps instead. Understand?"

"But-!"

"Would you like to fly 400 laps instead, boy? You're pushing me, and I've never been known to hesitate with punishment."

"No fair!" Gohan screamed, throwing himself up on his feet. "Stop acting like my _MOM!_ You _aren't_ the boss of me!"

But even as he yelled, his hair was starting to transition into a familiar gold hue. All Vegeta did as the boy screamed was smirk. Then, when he was done, Vegeta slowly opened his mouth. "Child, you may have noticed this by now, but I am a man. Just so we're clear, I will _never_ be your mom, nor do I want to."

"AHHH!" Gohan let out another howl of frustration, the ki blowing out around him and nearly knocking Vegeta off his feet.

And then he was starting on his 250 laps around the room, grumbling and screaming to himself as he went.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter didn't flow very smoothly compared to others, I'll apologize for that. I wrote this while I was really sick, and I am still getting over it, but I wanted to go ahead and post an update. Thanks for reading and commenting!
> 
> I am so excited that Finding Immortal passed the milestone of 300 kudos with my last update! I was so happy! I don't write just FOR the comments, but I'd be lying if I said I don't get excited when I see them. It really does help keep me motivating to keep at this!


	25. The Time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to everyone who commented on my last chapter. I am starting to finally feel better, and just in time for another update!

* * *

The kitchen felt stuffy as Bulma stood at the counter near the stove, stirring herself some porridge in a large green bowl. It had been somewhere between two and three weeks since she had become bedridden, and for the first time in days she was feeling well enough to even stand. The Bluehead wasn't sure why the nausea had completely evaded her today, but she didn't care to waste any time pondering over that. Not only was her stomach completely settled, but her migraine was totally gone, and even her bones felt well rested.

The house had been empty since she'd gotten up, and Bulma silently wondered what everyone had been up to as she fixed herself a meal. So many questions were forming as she stood alone, and the Bluehead was quickly realizing just how much she'd missed out on during the time she had spent as the sleeping beauty.

As if on cue, the front door made a loud creak as it swung open. Bulma stepped to the entry of the kitchen to see Gohan trudging into the foyer, looking tired and bothered and he clomped inside the house. He didn't seem to be expecting to see Bulma, for he jumped an entire meter when he looked up to see her standing in the kitchen way. "Wah-!"

"Gohan! It's okay!" Bulma shrieked, jumping along with him. "What's wron-"

"You scared me!" The boy was gasping now, but there was a wide smile on his cheeks, and he suddenly looked far less morose than he had a few seconds prior. "Miss Bulma! You're awake!"

" _Of course_ I am!" She replied, but she was returning the boy's grin as he began to hop towards her. He was going right for her, and he didn't stop until his arms were wrapping around her waist. "I'm so glad to see you're okay!" He was saying, nuzzling his face into the cloth of her gown.

"I'm glad to see you, too..." She replied, and there was an astounding warmth that welled within to feel the boy hugging her so tightly. Bulma looked down at him, the heat rushing to her cheeks as she put her hands on his shoulders, and she wondered exactly how much time had passed that she'd been so sick…

Why, Gohan was acting as if he'd thought he might never see her again. Was _that_ reaction really warranted?

And, as the question struck Bulma's mind, she felt like a fool for even wondering about that.

The answer was _yes…_

… _Yes,_ he was absolutely right to be so concerned for her. He had already lost both of his own parents, hadn't he? It didn't matter if she had been sick for a month, or even just a day. In his short life Gohan already had enough experience to validate any type of disastrous worry that plagued his mind… Before she even knew it, Bulma found she was squeezing the boy back. She bent down as her pale arms wrapped around him. Holding him this time felt different than ever before, and she couldn't bring herself to stop the embrace. She just couldn't let loose until he made the first move to pull away.

"It's so good to see you!" He beamed, and then he ran around her for the kitchen. "I can't spend too long, though. I'm only supposed to have a quick snack before break time is over!"

She followed him, taking a slow look at the boy as he pulled open the refrigerator. Bulma blinked to refresh her focus, but she saw the same thing when her eyes settled on him again. New muscles were bulging from his youthful arms as he pulled a giant leg of some unknown animal from the fridge. His teeth were already clamped into the meat before the door was shut, and he turned to shoot Bulma a doofy grin that reminded her so much of Goku in that moment.

"What are you taking a break from?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant as she stepped back to the bowl she had been stirring a few minutes ago. The truth was that she was becoming desperately curious as time went by, but she was doing her best not to act on it. She knew she could be overzealous at times, and the last thing Bulma wanted was to spiral herself into some kind of freakout on a quest for knowledge.

"Training!" Gohan replied, his lips smacking loudly as he chewed.

"Oh?"

"Yeah! Mister Vegeta's been even more tough than Mister Piccolo, but he says the time is coming. I think we're almost done! I hate all this stuff, so I'm excited to get it over with!"

"The... _time?_ Is… _coming?"_ Bulma's eyes went wide. Well, that sounded upsettingly ominous, didn't it? What was going on? What on _Earth_ had they been scheming while she'd been asleep?!

"Ah, dangit!" Gohan hiccupped, his eyes moving towards the kitchen door. "Here he comes, now!"

Bulma turned just in time to hear the front door swinging open, and she didn't bother moving from her spot as she listened to a pair of heavy boots marching towards the kitchen. When Vegeta stepped into the room and saw Bulma, he nearly smirked, but she glared back.

"The TIME?" She inquired, putting a hand on her hip.

Ignoring her, the saiyan turned to Gohan, who had started furiously gnawing at his leg of meat. "You're taking forever, boy! I only permitted you a momentary break for a snack - _not_ an entire meal! What's keeping you?!"

" _I've_ been keeping him!" Bulma interjected. "Vegeta, what's this I hear about your training? What's going on?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself about." He growled. He had initially looked happy to see her, but suddenly it seemed as if he was purposely _trying_ to avoid eye contact with the Bluehead, and it was starting to piss her off…

"Okay! I'm ready!" Gohan announced, throwing the leftover bone in the trash and wiping his palms on his shirt. "I'll go get warmed up again."

The child ran from the room, though it seemed that he was moving more out of obligation than enthusiasm. Vegeta was quick to turn on his heel and follow. Bulma dropped her spoon back in her bowl and went running after. She knew Vegeta had the capability to move so fast that she wouldn't even be able to see him go if he wanted to, and the fact that she was able to catch up to him made her think he didn't mind the disruption. The Bluehead grabbed the saiyan by the back of the shirt and tugged, nearly colliding with his back as he skidded to a stop.

"Tell me!" She panted when he turned to look at her over his shoulder. "Gohan said THE TIME is coming. What are you planning, Vegeta? You'd better not say what I think you're going to!"

"Right." He glared. "I know, and that is why I _won't_ say. You will blow things out of proportion, and I don't have time to deal with it."

He moved out of her grip, and Bulma staggered after. "Vegeta!" She called desperately, trying to think of something she could say. She just wanted him to stop. She just wanted to find a way to keep him long enough to try and figure out what he was planning to do. She wanted to think of _anything_ to say to keep him with her. "Wh-Hey! Who- How… How long was I out for?!"

This did it.

He stopped again, this time turning his entire body to get a look at her. Gohan had long ago disappeared outside, so it was just the two of them alone as Bulma and Vegeta stared at one another. She was still feeling winded from chasing after him, with pregnancy having a lovely way of rendering her chronically breathless. But she spoke again, fighting back the huffs of her lungs. "I've been sick, and we all know I've been in bed. How long was I out for?"

"Almost three weeks."

"And... how did I not starve?" This was something she hadn't even thought of until now, but she knew her question made a good point. She was pregnant, which meant she needed to eat more than normal in the first place. But she hadn't been able to keep hardly anything down in nearly a month. How had she and the baby managed to survive _that?_

"Well," Vegeta muttered, furrowing his eyebrows as if she'd said something offensive. "It certainly wasn't by means of yourself. _Someone_ had to handle those affairs while you were down..."

"What?" Bulma's eyes widened again. "Vegeta, wh-?"

"Enough of this!" He spat, turning again.

"Wait!" She tried again. "Vegeta, tell me right now! How long do we have until our time runs out?!"

Once again, her question of choice had worked. He didn't bother even looking at her, though, but his posture straightened when her heard her words. The saiyan didn't respond, merely standing in still silence as Bulma gasped behind him. She tried again. "How _long_ do we have until Frieza comes after you, Vegeta? I was down for three weeks, and I don't even know how long we've been at this anymore. How long do we have?"

"No more than 21 days." He growled. "And it is not guaranteed he will arrive at that exact time. That will simply be the day he becomes aware that I have abandoned mission, and he will start his manhunt for me. How long it will take for him to find me, that is to be uncertain. I've grown quite good as disguising my ki."

"But... you said when we first started all of this... You _said_ we need to act as if the three month mark will be the day arrives. We need to get the dragon balls by then! We _need_ to assume for the worst."

"We have time." He growled.

"No, Vegeta. You need to stop whatever it is that you're doing. We only need two more balls, it's idiotic to throw all that away for-"

"WE HAVE TIME, WOMAN!" He barked. The word _idiot_ had done it, and his temper had been fused. He whipped around and glowered at her. "We will GET the damned balls, but before then I have certain affairs to take care of! I might need them as insurance against Frieza, sure, but I'll be damned if I stoop to that desperation over two slabs of human shaped metal! I WILL BEAT THE ANDROIDS, which will only make me even stronger! THAT will help prepare me for my battle with Frieza! Do you understand?!"

"I don't!" She barked back. "I already told you! Defeating those things is next to impossible! It doesn't have anything to do with YOU! Why are you being so pigheaded about this?!"

Vegeta began to yell back, but Bulma didn't even bother to listen to what he had to say. She was suddenly feeling dizzy, and instantly she knew it was from all the oxygen she'd been exerting with her yells.

Even as the saiyan was barking his rebuttal, Bulma turned and made a line for the couch. There was an uncoordinated bounce in her steps that caught the saiyan's eye, and Vegeta had completely ceased with his shouting by the time Bulma had dropped into the cushions. "What's wrong?" He asked. His voice was still firm, but now there was a concern in his tone instead of anger, and it seemed he had completely forgotten that they'd just been fighting.

"I'm just dizzy." Bulma sighed, closing her eyes and letting her head drop back. She was fanning herself as she panted to catch her breath, feeling as if the world was spinning around her. "I shouldn't be raising my voice like this. I'm not well, but you _always_ get the best of me."

"This is why I _told_ you I didn't want to discuss things..." He growled, but a moment later she felt his hand taking her own. She opened her eyes and looked to see that he had fallen into a kneeling position by her side of the couch, glaring down at her hand as if he was about to start yelling at it.

"But we have to talk about this though..." She scowled. She wanted to pull her hand out of his grip just to emphasize her point, but his palm felt so warm on her skin, and she couldn't bring herself to tear away. Still, Bulma couldn't just forget about all of this... She turned her hand over so that her palm was against his own. "You're involving Gohan with this. He's just a _kid…_ It's not right."

"He's a lot more sloppy than I was at his age, I'll give him that… but he is still worthy." Vegeta's voice was still firm, yet he was speaking so quietly as he pressed his hand even deeper against her own. His palm was growing even more warm, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it almost felt like a blanket was starting to swaddle her skin. The sensation of sitting in a spinning room was starting to dull, and her breaths were slowing to a more structured pace.

"Vegeta. He is _just_ a kid." Bulma tried again, but she was giving up on getting him to listen. Not only was he as stubborn as a bolder, but somehow the anger was subsiding along with her dizziness… In fact, she was starting to feel rather _calm…_

"He _is_ useful." Vegeta continued, as if that simple sentence settled things. And then he stood, letting go of the Bluehead, and the warm sensation quickly disappeared altogether. Bulma's hand almost felt cold after leaving his own, and she looked down at it with disbelief. Had Vegeta's skin always been that soothingly warm? Could it be that she was only _now_ just noticing?

"I can't just be okay with that." She said dumbly, looking up at the saiyan with a blank expression. He was frowning down at her, but he didn't appear to be angry any more. There was a softness in her eyes. "I can't let you neglect everything. I know you want to seek vengeance on those androids, Vegeta, but we can't just lose sight of what we've already started..."

"I'm not _going_ to lose sight…" He said, and the irritation was returning to his voice now. "I am taking care of a couple of pests that have been getting their way for far too long. And then we will continue. And I would like to see you _try_ to stop me, Woman."

"I _will."_ She hissed back, narrowing her eyes.

"You can't even yell without nearly passing out, and it's the child inside you that's causing it. You won't be able to even attempt a rebellion for months. Bluffing will not work with me."

And then he bent down over her, an action that she hadn't foreseen. Suddenly he was kneeling again, but he was now hovering over her entire body rather than just the arm of the couch. His forehead was nearly pressing against her own as he looked down at her, and she was sinking deeper into the cushions as he grew even closer to her skin. "Do you not trust me to be successful?" He whispered, and it came out as a breathy mutter as he leaned even closer to her face. "Why do you keep doubting my strength?"

"I don't!" She said, and it sounded like a sad groan. Her arms were reaching up to wrap around his neck. "You're the toughest person I've ever met… But I do understand the risks, and I don't think they're necessary to take..."

"If you acknowledge my strength, then trust me on this. I have taken note from our last run-in, and I've been forming a plan..."

He just smelled _so_ good…

… Bulma squeezed his neck even tighter, pulling him in so she could lay a kiss on his lips. He returned the gesture, allowing his body to finally sink into her own as he held himself up with his arms at both of her sides. She could feel her eyes watering as his tongue slid across her own, knowing that the warmth of his embrace was only going to be momentary.

She didn't want him to leave.

She didn't _want_ him to go, train for some stupid cause, and get himself killed in the process. Bulma wanted him to stay right here, with her, in her arms…

He had been forcing her mouth open with his own, and she took this as an opportunity to bite down on his lower lip. It was a slow but assured gesture to express her grievances.

He seemed to like this, because he groaned against her mouth. Putting a hand to the back of her head, he pressed himself even closer against her lips, and she sank her teeth down even deeper.

Suddenly she pulled away, taking in a gasp of air as she did so. Vegeta was lipping her jawline as she caught her breath, a low growl brewing from the back of his throat. "It has been such a long time since we've _had fun_ together..." His fingertips were pressing into her shoulder now, massaging into the muscle. "I've been craving you for quite some time, _Bulma_..."

"Promise me you're not going to get yourself killed." The Bluehead replied, her words coming out as a moan as he nipped the skin beside her ear. "Promise me that _Gohan_ isn't going to get killed. Promise me you'll-"

"If I didn't have a brain and a severe intolerance for bullshit, I would have been top commander of the Ginyu Force a long time ago. The single most powerful army that currently lives..." Vegeta breathed, his hand sneaking back around to Bulma's front. His words didn't mean much to the Bluehead, who knew _of_ the Ginyu Force, but not very much.

…Yet somehow it was still soothing to hear, all the same.

"Any injury I take only results in me growing even stronger once I heal. It is in the saiyan's DNA. That Android might have pushed me to the brink of at one time, but they don't yet realize I come back twice as strong after every encounter. Your gravity machine is quite useful, too... There is no doubt that I will succeed…"

He was palming her left breast now, and she knew he could feel her heartbeat with how fast it was racing. Her hands shot to his wrist, her nails digging into his skin as he worked, and she let out another moan at the sensation. It really _had_ been a long time since they'd done this...

… Too long…

But, just as Bulma was about to lean forward to lay another kiss on his lips, his hand was suddenly gone.

Actually, _Vegeta's_ entire body was gone.

He had abruptly stood up and backed several steps away. "I've got business to take care of. The others are waiting for me. We can't do this now, or one of them will just walk in on us." He grumbled, by means of explanation. He appeared to be rather flustered, running a hand through his hair. "Ah – I _want this –_ But I can't – not when… We can't continue with this petting, Woman. I have to go. The last thing I need is to have to show back up with some ridiculous story about why my pants look like a compass needle that is pointing north."

"Well, it's too late for that..." Bulma teased. She laughed at the look on his face, but she really did want to help. And so she tried to think of something to say that might piss him off enough to make him forget about what they'd just been doing.

Then, with a grin, she glared at him. "Vegeta, you _won't_ be fighting those Androids. I can't sit by and watch you do anything stupid! I won't _let_ you! I'll get my way in the end, even if it means using force, BITCH!"

Knowing his attitude, she'd expected him to fall back into a rebuttal that would be very typical of the esteemed saiyan prince. He'd forget what they'd just been doing, and he'd storm out with a vengeance after yelling something twisted back. What she saw, instead, was that his certain _needle_ became even more prominent before he turned to hide his shame. "Damn you." He growled. "Now I'm going to have to stand in the cold shower for 5 minutes."

"REALLY?" Bulma had to cough in order to stifle her laugh. "Wait, does it _really_ get you off when I call you a-"

But the saiyan was already slamming the bathroom door, leaving Bulma alone in the living room. All she could do was sit there, using her hand to fan herself off as she stifled another laugh…

.

.

.

"You've been doing terrible today…" Piccolo was muttering. Gohan had just returned from his break in the house and was now throwing punches at his mentor, but it was embarrassing. Piccolo usually had more of a hard time avoiding his blows, but so far today he'd had no issues at all.

The kid had come far, especially after starting an even stricter training regime under Vegeta's urgent lead. Extended exposure to heightened gravity had also worked wonders on the boy, who had quickly become a challenge for even Piccolo to contain.

But today Gohan had been sloppy, moving in slow motion with everything he did. Piccolo hadn't had any trouble catching his fists, dodging his blasts, or jumping to avoid his kicks. It had been this way since they had started in the morning, and so he and Vegeta had finally agreed in giving the boy an unusual midday break. But he was doing no better upon his return, and Piccolo was losing his patience for it.

"Your mind is obviously somewhere else." He growled, catching another one of Gohan's weak attempts at a hit. To give a point, he backhanded the boy on the side of the head. It wasn't excessively hard, but Gohan gasped from it all the same. Then, with no more accuracy than before, he continued with his half-assed attempts at landing a punch.

"Listen to what I say!" Piccolo snapped. "If you aren't going to even pay attention to my criticisms, then you might as well stop trying!"

It was a rhetorical comment, but Gohan seemed to agree. In the blink of an eye he had stopped with his routine, had completely dropped his offensive posture, and fallen back on his rear. "Ah!" He groaned. "I can't do this!"

"What do you mean?" Piccolo wiped his hands on his clothes, shaking his head as he calmly stepped back. "You've _been_ doing it. Why are you acting like this all of the sudden, kid?"

"Because it's hard!" Gohan was yelling now. For weeks he had been working at this. Ever since his mother died, his life had consisted of _nothing_ but training.

He really loved, Mr. Piccolo, he really did. He loved when his mentor would offer encouragement, nod his approval, or even pat him on the shoulder. But when he wasn't receiving any of that, Vegeta and Mr. Piccolo both participated in an act that could only be described as being a "hard ass". The cycle of tough love and motivational insults that came from both of his mentors was all finally starting to boil over, and the monotony of endless training was making him feel weak.

"I'm getting tired of it!" The boy shouted. "I'm tired of having to train all the time!"

"Well get used to it, kid, because you'll be doing this for the rest of your life." Piccolo shot back, but some of the aggression was leaving his voice. "You'll be able to ease up when we defeat the Androids. It would be foolish not to maintain what you've learned and give up afterwards, but there'll be a lot more time for leisure after that."

"Why can't we just fight them _now_ , then?" Gohan balled his hands into fists. "You _know_ I don't wanna do this! But if I have to then I just wanna get it over with!"

"You're getting better by the day, but I haven't had direct contact with the Androids like Vegeta has." Piccolo replied calmly. "We aren't going to attack until he tells us it's appropriate. And until then we're going to keep preparing, like we have been."

"Why haven't you fought them, though?!". Gohan had been feeling bored and defeated all day, but it wasn't just _that_ anymore. Now there was so much more inside than just the despondence that came with an old and overwhelming routine.

 _Now_ he was also feeling cornered, trapped, and even a bit hurt…

Wasn't it hypocritical of Mr. Piccolo to put so much pressure on him, especially when the man hadn't even faced the Androids himself? Who was _he_ to be so authoritative over what Gohan did? Who was _he_ to tell him that his punches were weak, and that he was doing a terrible job, and that he needed to stop kidding around when Gohan was already trying his best? After everything they'd done until this point, in the end Piccolo wasn't even _planning_ to fight alongside him!

Why, Piccolo didn't even care about him at all – _did he?_ Piccolo was just going to send Gohan out there to handle all of this on his own, while he safely watched from the sidelines - and how was any of that justified or fair?! If he _really_ cared, then he'd want to fight alongside him, to have his back and protect him in case anything unexpected happened… But that didn't seem to be on his mentor's mind at all…

"Gohan, don't start." Piccolo was saying now.

"NO!" Gohan spat. It was too late for a warning – too late to be told not to get upset. The boy was already seething, his face red and puffy as the anger took him over. "I'm sick and tired of you guys telling me what to do all the time! It's easy for you to act so big, but you're not even going to be there when it all happens! You've just been using me! This is all just a joke to you! You don't care about me at all, Mr. Piccolo! Not you, and not Mr. Vegeta, either!"

And then he turned and belted from the room.

Piccolo tried to catch him, and it was the first time that day he'd had any trouble with the kid. Gohan flew away from him at an immeasurable speed, slamming the door to the gravity room as he did so. Even as Piccolo called after, he kept going. Gohan's feet hit the grass in a run, and he was heading for the house. Heading through the living room, heading to the only person he felt had left to turn to...

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to also mention something I was thinking about. After skimming through this story to try and remind myself of a few things, I've realized there's been a rather minimal amount of VegeBul lemon. Now, one of the reasons this story was originally rated M was due to some of the scenes that depict death. That being said, I definitely intended to include love scenes between Vegeta and Bulma. I've just been focusing a lot on moving the plot along, though, and I realize I've been neglectful with that. I just wanted to let you know, in case you've been waiting and hoping for more lemon, that there is plenty on the way.
> 
> In fact, it may be coming sooner than you think.
> 
> I have a decent amount of material already typed up that I still need to go through and edit. So I cannot say for sure WHEN it is coming, but there is definitely some steam in the works.
> 
> I always have a hard time deciding how to balance the lemon chapters - how many would be too little, how many would not be enough? I don't want to disappoint or neglect that side of VegeBul, though, so a goal is to try to get better about that. ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting, as always! The batch of feedback that came from my last update really helped take my mind off being sick. :)


	26. A New Type of Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is, by far, the longest chapter I think I've ever posted. So many things happen, but it just didn't make sense to break it up anywhere! ;)

Bulma was back at her porridge, yet again, when Gohan burst into the house with tears streaming down his face. She'd hardly had time to even step back from the counter when he was in the kitchen and diving for her, burying his face in her stomach. He let out a loud sob, sniffling into the fabric of her gown. "What the-?" She began, but before she had a chance to finish her thought the front door flew open again.

"GOHAN, GET BACK HERE!"

When he heard the sound of his mentor's voice, the boy swung around to Bulma's rear, trying to hide himself from Piccolo's view as he buried his face into her lower back. Obviously something horrible had just happened, and the Bluehead's heart seemed to freeze in place when, a moment later, Piccolo was standing right in front of her. He was towering over her, looking over her shoulder. His breaths rasping out of his nostrils, and there was a demented look of fury in his cold eyes.

"Enough of this!" He yelled, and Bulma flinched at the fire in his voice. Her mouth had dropped open, watching Piccolo like a deer caught in front of headlights. What was all this? She'd just been trying to _finally_ eat, and now all of the sudden she was involuntarily standing in the middle of some kind of ultrahuman dispute!

"Gohan…" Piccolo warned. "We need to settle this. Get back in the gravity room. Right now."

"No! Go away!" Gohan yelled back, his voice muffled from Bulma's clothy rear. "Just leave me alone! I'm tired of this! I'm tired of _you!_ I thought you understood me, but you don't! _Nobody_ understands me!"

"GOHAN, DAMNIT! STOP THROWING A FIT!"

 _Kami – that yell!_ Bulma was suddenly feeling afraid - very afraid, and her arm went out to add more shield for the boy as Piccolo seethed. She took a step back, nearly stumbling over the child as he continued to sob into her. The Bluehead's eyes had gone wide as Piccolo seemed stood over her, and he was staring at her with such disdain that it took all she could to keep from preemptively flinching.

It was clear that what Gohan said was really having an effect on Piccolo – he'd completely snapped. Balling his hands into fists, he took a deep breath, and then he shook his head. "Stop trying to protect the kid." He finally growled, and it seemed that he was mustering all the patience he could. "He has work to do. This has nothing to do with you, so step aside and let me handle it."

"N-No!" Bulma shot back, though her voice was shaking more than she would have liked it to. She had grown used to Piccolo being so nearby all the time, and she had even almost become completely comfortable with him – from a distance. But seeing the rage on his scaly face now only reminded her of all of the reasons she'd been so fearful of him in the first place, and she couldn't _just_ hand the boy over to him. Perhaps they were just going to hash this out, but perhaps not. She didn't know _what_ had happened to cause any of this, but she wasn't going to take any risks that Gohan might get hurt. "I... I don't know _what's_ going on, but Gohan stays with me until I can find out. Just leave for now."

"You have no business getting involved." His face only grew even colder. "You've provided us with that gravity room, so I'm being civil right now. But you'd better stop protecting the kid when he's in trouble, or I will be forced to _make you_ stop. Now **, move!"**

"You said it, not me! He's _just_ a kid!" She tried. She was still struggling to back away, her legs hitting Gohan with each step. "He's obviously scared!"

"I don't have time for this stupid game!" Piccolo barked, and then his green hand was on her shoulder.

His intention in that moment wasn't to actually _hurt_ her. Piccolo had been planning on just fishing her out of the way so he could get face level with the boy and demand a more thorough conversation. And he was about to do that, his wrist starting to flick as he began to pull her back. But he had hardly even moved her by a centimeter before something heavy collided with his rib, and everything around him started to spin.

Bulma put a hand over her mouth, and she really did fall when Vegeta yanked Piccolo away. It happened so fast, and all she'd felt was the sudden relief of pressure when his green claws were ripped from her shirt. The next thing she knew she was laying on Gohan, who actually didn't seem to mind, and she was staring straight ahead as she watched Vegeta slamming Piccolo into the kitchen wall.

A shattering sound was heard, a dent forming around Piccolo's frame. And then the two men were huffing in the recoil.

At first Piccolo seemed surprised, but then his face quickly twisted into a snarl. He didn't have the chance to shout something, though. A loud slapping sound erupted when Vegeta's palm came into full contact with his cheek, echoing across the room and making the Bluehead cringe.

The saiyan prince had just slapped the absolute shit out of Piccolo, and apparently it had been successful in rendering the green man completely stunned. The green man's face dropped, and he closed his mouth.

"Don't manhandle my _Woman_." Vegeta was saying, his voice slowly oozing out from behind his gritted teeth. "She is a HUMAN, you IDIOT... She cannot handle the FORCE."

The saiyan was holding Piccolo by the neck with one hand, his fingers tightly gripping the towel he had around his waist with the other. His black hair was still dripping suds down his back as he stood his ground, and it was obvious that this entire scene had forced him to cut his shower short.

Actually, Bulma could still hear the water running through the pipes from the other room… It seemed that Vegeta had quite literally jumped out just to stop this situation before it was able to escalate any further... He hadn't even taken the time to turn off the tap...

Piccolo was panting, but after a few minutes of staring at Vegeta he blinked. And then realization dawned on his face. "... Thanks." He muttered, gulping down some of the foam that had been forming in his lips. "I... I needed that."

Staring into his dark eyes for another few seconds, the saiyan prince seemed to be considering whether the green man really was calming down. And then, with a grunt, Vegeta let go and stepped back.

Still wide eyed and shaking with the suddenness of everything, Bulma was catching her breath in sharp gasps as she stared at Piccolo from over Vegeta's shoulder. Piccolo was still watching Vegeta, but when he felt her eyes he looked over to return her gaze. With a grunt he nodded at her, furrowing his brows. "Hey... I'm sorry. I don't pride myself in losing my calm like that. I got carried away."

She wasn't feeling enthusiastic to lock eyes with him, so Bulma quickly averted her pupils to the back of Vegeta's head. And then, when she saw his shoulders twitching as he started to turn around, she looked away from him as well. She shifted her weight to move off of Gohan, pushing some hairs out of her face as she did so.

No longer sobbing, Gohan had his lips pursed in embarassment. The Bluehead pulled herself up to her feet, took him by the hand, and gestured for the boy to stand with her.

And then, without looking back at Vegeta or Piccolo, and without speaking a word to either of them, she ushered Gohan away from the kitchen.

The two remained silent until they had both disappeared inside the bedroom and the door was carefully shut behind them. And then she walked to her bed, dropped herself into a sitting position as if she was exhausted, and looked up at the kid. "Well..." She breathed, shaking her head. " _That._ Was. _Crazy."_

Still looking embarrassed, Gohan had kept his distance as he hovered by the door, his hands balled into fists. His cheeks were stained red in place of where his tears had just been, his expression twisted as he looked down to avoid her gaze. Evidently, having someone fall on him had done the trick in calming whatever had been boiling over inside, and he now seemed to be completely ashamed for his earlier blowup.

His hair was covering his eyes as he stared down at the floor, and this was the first time that the Bluehead realized just how overgrown it really was.

Why, it was nearly as long as her own!

Bulma sighed, pushing herself up from the bed so she could walk towards her dressing table. "How do you even manage to train with your hair like that?" She asked, though it came out more as a comment than an interrogation. After a few minutes of fishing through one of the drawers, she found what it was she was looking for.

It was then that she turned to him, and he was finally looking at her with a quizzical expression.

"Alright." She said. "Vegeta's still going to be using the bathroom, so we'll have to make due in here. Come on..."

... A few minutes later saw Gohan sitting on the floor and hugging his knees, with Bulma right behind him. She was kneeling over the boy, a pair of scissors in her hand as she snipped away at his locks. "We'll get this nice and short so you'll have a while before it grows back out." She explained softly, a large chunk of black hair falling to the floor beside them.

This entire time Gohan still hadn't said a word.

He _just_ couldn't.

He had humiliated himself, and he'd known better to act the way he had. The boy was ashamed of what he'd done, and he didn't know how to handle that. There was an overwhelming sense of sadness, the scenes replaying in his head as Bulma snipped away behind him. He knew he shouldn't have run away like he had. He shouldn't have chosen to hide behind Bulma, to let her get involved.

All he'd wanted at the time was someone who might show more tenderness to him. He wanted someone to understand. He needed more affection than he ever received from Vegeta or Mr. Piccolo, he just _did_. At the time, his instinct had been to go to Miss Bulma, but it hadn't been right. She could never give him what he needed. Because, deep down, what he'd really wanted was his own _mom…_

"I know those two can be hard on you..." Bulma was whispering now as she ran a brush through his now considerably shorter mane. "Whatever happened between you and Piccolo, I don't really blame you for getting upset. The guy can be scary. But I can tell he cares about you, though. Really, I mean, I honestly didn't even _know_ he was capable of liking anyone at all until I saw how he interacts with you..."

"Yeah..." Gohan replied quietly, trying not to get upset again. "Maybe that's why it hurts... When we first started training, I thought it was because he wanted to fight _with_ me... I thought he actually liked me, too… But he doesn't care enough to fight with me... He's not even going to help… It's like he's just been using me for some reason... Sometimes I just feel like I'm just a big puppet..."

"You aren't." She gave part of his head another snip to try and even out his hair on both sides.

"Mr. Piccolo isn't even planning to fight with us, though. He just wants to yell at me, and tell me everything I do wrong, and then he's going to sit back and not even try to help when me and Mr. Vegeta-"

"Yeah, that would piss me off too." She patted some loose strands off from his shoulders. "But Piccolo has his reasons, I'll give him that. I think he knows enough about those androids to not want to risk it. If anything happened to him, it'd be very bad."

"It _would?"_

"Yeah. You know those dragon balls I've been collecting? Well, if anything happened to Piccolo, they would become useless. We'd never be able to make a wish again. And he knows that. I think that's why he pushes you so hard. He must see what your capable of, and honestly, I think he needs _you_..."

Gohan didn't respond to this.

He closed his eyes as Bulma ran a brush through his hair one last time, letting out a low breath of air as she did. When she was done she put her tools down beside her, and she clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Look." She whispered. "I don't know what Vegeta's been planning, but I don't like the sound of it either. I'm going to talk to him and make sure you aren't going to fight. If he wants to do anything crazy, he'll be doing it on his own. I won't let him force you into this. So don't worry. You're not going to have to do anything..."

And then she wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight squeeze from behind. "Things might be complicated right now, but you know I'm here for you." She said softly. "I'll _always_ be here for you. Together we make a family… Don't you forget that…"

Several minutes passed, and she stayed still as she hugged him. And then, deciding to change the mood, she finally stood. And then the Bluehead offered a hand to help him up. He looked at her, shook his head, and stood on his own. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier, Miss Bulma… I really am."

"It's okay." She smiled. "That's what I'm here for…"

… The house was empty when they walked back out into the main rooms, with only a Piccolo shaped dent in the kitchen wall to indicate that he'd ever even been there.

"Great..." The Bluehead sighed when she looked across the tiled floor. Her beloved bowl of porridge had gotten thrown at some point during the altercation, and now lay in a splattered mess beside one of the cabinets. "Alright, I guess that settles it. I'll have to make something else."

She stepped past the spill, reaching the refrigerator and pulling its door open. "Gohan, have a seat. I'll make us something to eat."

And he did, nodding quietly as he crossed to the kitchen table and planted himself down in one of the seats. He watched Bulma as she started to crack eggs into a frying pan. And he watched as she dug through a drawer to fetch a spatula…

… It just didn't feel right to simply sit here and eat a giant meal, not at a time like this. Not when there was still so much unsettled conflict. There was a residual cloud of guilt that was still plaguing the pit of his stomach, his eyes still stinging from the tears he'd shed earlier... It just wasn't _right…_

... Bulma flipped the eggs over, watching as they sizzled against the pan. "I'll get this ready, and I can clean up everything once we eat." She said, her back turned to the child as she worked. "I think we both need a good meal right now. It'll make us _both_ feel a world's better. Kami, I hope this doesn't get ruined too. I've been starving since I woke up."

He didn't respond, but that didn't surprise her. It was clear he was still feeling emotional. She walked to a cabinet to fetch a plate, went back to the pan, and scooped the eggs onto the dish. And then she turned, ready to ask Gohan if he wanted something to drink with his food.

But when she got a good look at the table, she froze. Standing still with the plate in her hand, taking in what she saw, all she could do was sigh.

The chair was now empty, having been pushed back with absolute stealth. Gohan was nowhere to be seen, and Bulma knew exactly where he'd gone. She shut off the stove and shook her head, sighing again. "Well, I guess I'll be eating this meal alone…"

.

...Vegeta was standing in his reserved corner of the gravity room, but he wasn't calm aat all as he practiced raising his ki. The struggle to make the transition had reached a point where he'd end up a frustrated mess each time he made a failed attempt. On most days he'd end up howling and shouting obscenities on his knees, ranting about how infuriating it was to not be able to achieve the legendary transformation. He still couldn't understand - how had the _boy,_ of all people, managed such a thing?! Especially when he'd had no prior experience in fighting when it happened!

_How?!_

Piccolo was leaning with his back against the wall on the other side of the room. A large hand print was stamped on his right cheek, a token of his earlier run-in with Vegeta. He had managed to calm down a bit, but he was nowhere near happy.

The kid had just randomly exploded about things he'd known of since long ago. It hadn't been news that Piccolo would not assist in the battle with the Androids, and still the boy had used it as an excuse to have a break down. It was bad enough that he'd shouted such things, but he'd also bailed on his training, had hidden behind Vegeta's eye candy, and had even gotten away with it, too. The next time he saw Gohan, Piccolo was going to make sure he knew that his behavior wasn't acceptable. No way in hell was that boy going to learn he could get away with anything by simply hiding behind Bulma!

It didn't help that the large man-baby was throwing a fit on the other end of the room. Piccolo listened as Vegeta let out another explosive rant, the saiyan even slamming his fist into the floor as he cursed. It was irritating, to say the least, but it was always like this. When he was angry about something, Piccolo preferred to keep it to himself. He always tried to dig _within_ himself, to process everything until her found a resolve. The peace that came from that always ended up heightening his tolerance for bullshit. With each failure, Piccolo managed to learn something new about himself, and he prided himself on this.

He _prided_ himself on remaining cool... Yet, when he'd heard the boy speak to him with so much pain, he'd lost it...

Vegeta, on the other hand, seemed the absolute opposite. Any small thing that didn't go his way left the saiyan prince shouting and throwing his fist in the air like an uneducated ape. Vegeta certainly didn't know how to keep his thoughts to himself when someone made him mad, and _everything_ seemed to piss him off! The guy had a fuse shorter than anyone he'd known!

It was getting old.

Perhaps this was where Gohan had gotten it from…

Piccolo thought of muttering something to the saiyan about how he needed to learn how to _shut the fuck up_ , instead of droning on like a pathetic child and throwing a violent temper tantrum all the time. But the door opened then, and he looked up to see a strikingly different Gohan step inside.

The kid was now sporting a sloppy looking crew cut, which had been trimmed in such a way that it managed to make him look even shaggier than he had in the first place. His face was no longer red, his cheeks now flat instead of puffy. Gohan had a glare on his face that settled on Piccolo, and the boy marched up to him in long strides.

"What happened to you?" The green man grunted, not moving from his position against the wall.

"Oh, look who it is now!" Vegeta barked. He had been in the process of pulling his shirt off, and he threw in on the floor before storming over. With the gravity set as high as it was, the shirt made a loud clunking sound as it hit the tile. "That little stunt you pulled interrupted my shower, boy."

"I know." Gohan sighed. "I'm sorry, Mister Vegeta..."

"The only reason you weren't disciplined back there is because you chose to drag Bulma into this, and Piccolo was dumb enough to touch her. The two of you know she is sick, so it was foolish of you both. She doesn't need to stand witness to you being punished, and Piccolo took that discipline already when he made the mistake of wanting to shove her." Vegeta turned then to shoot a glare at Piccolo, and he scowled back.

The green man still hadn't moved from his spot against the wall, and he watched with folded arms as Gohan nodded to Vegeta. "I know, sir. I won't do it again."

"Good!" Vegeta snarled. "Because if you do, it won't matter if Bulma is nearby. I'll wait until you aren't with her, and I'll make sure it resonates with you that hiding behind the woman like a scared dog is not going to be tolerated around here!"

"I know…" Gohan said again. "I really am sorry, Mister Vegeta…"

And then the boy turned to Piccolo, nodding at him. Piccolo did not return the gesture, still scowling at the child with a stone cold expression. Gohan looked taken about by the severity of Piccolo's face. His cheeks reddened, and he gulped a lump down his throat before speaking again. "Miss Bulma said I don't have to do this anymore... She said she won't let you guys make me fight."

"Great. _Now_ she's loading you with propaganda!" The saiyan cursed from behind, "Fine. Waste all of our time, why don't you! Take everything we've done and just throw it away! Burn it to ash!" He was yelling at the top of his lungs now, cursing about how "everyone on this planet is so damned terrified of aggression, it's pathetic!", but Gohan ignored him. He hadn't been talking to _him._

Piccolo didn't even blink from all that was going on. It was predictable that Vegeta would use this as an excuse to go on a verbal tirade. He'd already been in the middle of one when Gohan had walked in, hadn't he? His green, hairless eyebrows furrowed even lower at the boy, ignoring the man-child that was growling behind them.

"I... I still want to." Gohan continued, ignoring Vegeta as well. He was starting to look antsy though, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in front of Piccolo's stare. It didn't feel good to be looked at with such disapproval, it _never_ did. But especially not when it was coming from one of the people whom opinion mattered to him most. "I... I'm sorry I yelled at you, Mister Piccolo. Bulma talked to me, and now I understand why you can't fight with me and Mister Vegeta, and I... I still want to do this."

"You do?" Piccolo's eyes widened, and he was finally speaking for the first time.

"Yeah. I... I want to make you proud, sir." Gohan stopped fidgeting when he saw a small grin break out on his mentor's face. And then he couldn't help himself - it was just _so_ relieving to know that Piccolo wasn't mad anymore! He ran to him, throwing his arms around the green man and hugging him for the very first time.

Piccolo's skin turned an even brighter shade of green when the boy did this. He looked up, looked to his side, looked down, and looked over his shoulder. What was he supposed to do?

Where was this coming from?!

As if to save Piccolo from his anxiety, Gohan pulled away, wiping yet another tear from his beaming face. "I want to make you proud!" He said again. "I want you to be glad you trained me!"

And then it happened – and Piccolo was just as surprised by himself as anyone else. The green man leaned forward, wrapped his arms around the child, and lifted him into a giant hug. "Gohan." He said, squeezing the boy so tight that all of the air was pushed from his lungs. "I already am…"

 _Oh, jeez..._ Vegeta's lips were tightening as he tried to decide which was snide comment he wanted to make about the sentiment of that scene. His brain began to race, unsure of exactly which direction he wanted to go with his insults…

But at that moment Gohan jumped back from Piccolo, hovering in the air. An explosion burst around him as his hair changed color, now taking on small spikes across his scalp instead of the long golden flame it had previously been.

And then, just as Vegeta was opening his mouth to spit out his sarcasm, Gohan swung around. He flew at the saiyan prince in only a split second's time, landing a kick in Vegeta's solar plexus when he reached him. It was hard enough that Vegeta almost lost his footing - hard enough that a breathless pop of air even escaped his lips.

"Good job!" Piccolo called from the sidelines.

"There you go, boy..." Vegeta smirked, wiping the spit from his chin. Gohan was floating at face level, still beaming like a child in a candy store. He even let out an excited laugh, finding the humor in having taken his teacher by such surprise.

"Not bad..." The saiyan prince fell into a fighting position now, smirking even wider. Finally, after a day of wasted time and too many emotions... Finally, the training was _finally_ going to start!

.

It was about 11pm when Vegeta finally slipped into the bedroom for the night. He'd been expecting Bulma to be asleep at that point, which had become typical for her. Sometimes she would wake up for a few minutes to bitch at him about not wanting him to train, but she was _always_ sleeping in the dark when he entered. Tonight, though, he was pleasantly surprised to see the that light was on, and she was sitting upright in bed.

The Bluehead had been flipping through a fashion magazine, but she tossed it aside when she saw the man she'd been waiting for. "Hey." She said quietly, her shoulders perking as he crossed towards her.

"You're awake." There was a smirk on the saiyan's face. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was glad to see her as he strode across the room. And when he reached the foot of the bed he stopped to pull off his spandex shirt, a relaxed groan leaving his lip when the fabric finally slid off.

"Of course… I was waiting for you..."

"You've been asleep every other night I've come in." Vegeta began to crawl on the bed, finding a spot beside the Bluehead and assuming a comfortable position on his back. He propped his hands behind his head as he lay, looking over at her.

"Thanks for helping earlier." Bulma whispered, not caring to continue with the small talk. "With Piccolo, I mean-"

"Your stubbornness is going to be your end someday, Woman. You should be glad I was there. I don't think he wanted to inflict any actual damage on you, but the man probably underestimates how much you can take."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "The guy was foaming at the mouth, and Gohan was upset! _Of_ _course_ I wasn't going to just hand him off! It would have been like feeding him to the wolves!"

"You very well _know_ that Piccolo would never hurt him. He was just mad because the boy starting yelling at him and ran off, like a child or something."

"He _is_ a child!" She hissed. Vegeta was saying everything so matter of factly - as if what he was stating should have been more than obvious. Bulma had already been offended by his words, but now she was crossing into legitimate anger. "And I _didn't_ know that, for your information. I don't know of _anything_ that goes on in that gravity room." She hissed. "And that green monster is a massive embodiment of evil!"

"So am I!" Vegeta shot back, still speaking as if he were telling her the obvious. "Any reservations you have about Piccolo, you _should_ also direct towards me."

"Hmm..." The Bluehead had been sitting up, but she dropped down to lay beside the saiyan now. Turning on her side to look at him, she propped her head up with one of her hands. "Maybe I should be wary of you. You aren't like him, though. _You're_ not evil."

"Yes I am." He shot back. "It's all I've ever told you about myself!"

"Yeah, but you aren't that way to me!"

" _You're_ an exception. And to Piccolo, Gohan is an exception as well. Next time they have a row, just stay out of it. Even _if_ the kid tries to involve you again, just leave it be."

" _Exception?"_ Bulma echoed, a smile on her face now.

"Of course! Stop playing dumb! You _know_ this!"

"I know you aren't as bad as you want to believe you are," She replied, and her voice was dropping into a lower whisper. "But I didn't know you thought of me as an _exception…"_

"Right." Vegeta muttered, but he was quickly starting to forget about what they'd just been discussing. While she'd been speaking, Bulma had reached out to put her fingertips on Vegeta's bare chest, and they were now starting to trace across his skin.

"You know..." She said. "I've been thinking about what you said earlier. I've been having some cravings, too..."

"Understandable." The saiyan gulped. She had pushed her entire palm against him now, and was slowly massaging it into his pecs with circular motions.

 _Alright!_ This was _just_ what he needed! Feeling eager, Vegeta made to turn onto her, but her hand only pushed firmer into his chest. "No." She said. "Don't."

"But you-"

"I _said_ I've been having cravings... I didn't say I wanted _that."_

"Woman..." His face was souring. "Don't toy with me, now. What are you-"

But she cut him off with her lips, and it was enough to confirm that she wasn't just testing him. The saiyan immediately put his hand to the back of her head, more than ready to deepen this into something more. A burst was already going on inside, just from the feel of her touch alone. A need for touch, a lust for her warm skin.

He was still turned on from their earlier encounter, and things were continuing where they had left off. And it was perfect - there were no underlying commitments to rip them away like there had been before.

Nobody was waiting for Vegeta.

Nobody knew or cared what they did, or how long they spent, and he intended to take full advantage of that.

She had starting to nibble on his lower lip, and she had to fight back a smile at how he reacted to it. He was on his side and facing her. When her teeth sank into his lip, he coiled against her body and let out a deep groan.

He was thrusting into her hip to show his enthusiasm, and Kami, he felt as if he was already completely ready to go. Bulma used her hand, which was still on his chest, to push herself up onto his body. "No." She instructed again when he made as if to sit up and grab after her. "Lay, Vegeta… **Stay.** "

" _Bulma..."_ He growled, sounding as if he were about to throw a tantrum. Acting as if he had just been denied something he'd been promised decades earlier. This prince really was spoiled, wasn't he? He couldn't even wait two seconds for foreplay!

"Just relax..." She replied, trying not to laugh as she slid down his body. "It's all gonna be okay..."

And then she reached part of his anatomy that she'd been looking for, and she lay against his thighs as she looked up at it. Kami, she didn't think she'd ever gotten as close of a look at it as she was getting now. He'd never really let her – and _heavens!_ It was so glorious! Perfectly shaped and sized, his erection was standing upright in all its glory.

Looking up to see Vegeta's face, Bulma smiled to see that he was staring straight up at the ceiling, almost as if he were actually nervous. He was laying incredibly still, his body stiff as he waited for her to continue with her actions. "Don't look so uptight." She teased, and his chest bobbed with a stifled laugh. "I am _not."_ He growled. "You don't know what is going through my head right now, Woman... It requires all of my will not to act on it…"

"I'm sure I have an idea..." She grinned, making sure her breath was hitting his sensitive skin as she spoke. His posture tightened even more at this, and she watched his adam's apple bob with a distinguishing gulp.

"If you do, then you know it's taking all I have to keep from fucking the shit out of you."

" _Language…"_ Bulma breathed, clicking out a sarcastic _"tssk"._ And then, without warning, she wrapped her fingers around the thick of his shaft, giving an affectionate squeeze.

She didn't know what Vegeta had been expecting, but apparently it hadn't been _this_. He let out a raw and unfiltered groan, so loud that it made the Bluehead cringe. His hips violently jolted at the feel, shaking Bulma's entire body along with it. Seeming to be absolutely stunned, he looked down at her as if to confirm what had just happened. His eyes had gone wide, his mouth dropped open as he met her gaze.

"Ssh!" Bulma scolded. The sound he'd made was still echoing through the house. She had almost instinctively let go of him to hide under the covers and pretend to be unsuspecting - just in case Gohan walked in to ask if anything was wrong. But, when she listened for any sign of recourse and heard nothing, she let out a sigh. "That was close. Be careful, Vegeta! We have a guest in this house, you know!"

"A little warning might have prevented that one!" Vegeta said back, and he sounded completely breathless as he spoke.

"Warning? From what? What did you _think_ I was going to do down here?" Even as she spoke, though, her hand was already slowly buffing down the length of his shaft. Caressing every centimeter of him with her palm until she came to a stop at his base, it was hard to stay angry when she saw his head drop back down to the pillow.

A low groan came from Vegeta's throat, though she could tell that he'd kept his mouth shut and had tried to stifle it this time.

"Look at you," She grinned, moving her hand back up to his tip. She was starting on a steady rhythm, pumping him slowly as she watched his chest starting to rise and fall. "This isn't even what I was planning to do, and you can barely handle it. Maybe I don't need to go any further, after all. I think _this_ is all you need..."

"No. WOMAN." His voice was becoming rather raspy. He pushed himself up to a sight sitting position now, so he could get a better look at her. "Keep. _Fucking._ Going."

"Keep going?" She smiled coyly, her eyes locked on his. And then, still watching his gaze, she bent her head forward to graze her lips against the tip of his member.

His expression had been strained, but when she did this his eyebrows furrowed even more. He let out another loud groan, but this time it sounded as if he'd been punched in the gut. The expression on his face matched the sound perfectly, and he nearly looked as if he was going to throw up...

… _That_ was it.

She _had been_ teasing him, but it was hard not to take offense at a reaction like _that._ Bulma quickly released him, pushing herself back from his hips. "Well, if _that's_ how you feel, then I'll just stop!"

" _What?"_ Vegeta had fallen on his back again, and he now looked up to her as if he were trying to figure out what had just happened. Blinking dumbly, he stared for any hint of reason.

"What do you mean, _**what**_?" She frowned. "What was that face you made?! You're acting like you're in pain!"

"No..."

The Bluehead pushed herself further away, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she did so. Vegeta blinked again as he watched, still coming down from the high he'd just been riding a moment ago. She was acting like she was about to get up and leave, and followed her lead. The saiyan reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back just as she was making to stand. Bulma scowled at him, and Vegeta frowned back. "Don't."

"I thought-" She huffed, her cheeks growing red. She looked as if she were about to even start crying. _What the hell was wrong with this girl?!_ "I thought you were actually enjoying this for a second."

"I am..." Vegeta said sternly, his eyes not leaving her own. "Don't leave."

"Then...-"

"I already told you. The things I want to do to you right now are maddening." He gulped. "It's a trial to my patience to just lay here like this and take your torture."

She was still scowling, but when he said this her look softened. "I figured you thought I was a joke."

"Why the hell _would_ I?!" Now he seemed to be the one getting frustrated.

"I don't know what other girls have done for you." She replied softly. "The way you gagged just now, I thought you-"

"Shut _up_ about other girls." His jaw was clenched. "Never before have I been told to just lay down like a board while my body is tortured with these merciless temptations - if _that's_ what you're wondering."

"Are you being serious?" The Bluehead replied, but she could tell he was. This wasn't the first time Vegeta had said he was having trouble keeping himself in order, and the look on his face confirmed it all. "Is it really _that_ hard for you to not be in control?"

She was smiling now, and the saiyan let out a sigh of relief before letting himself fall on his back again. This woman was so high maintenance - even in moments like this! She was surely going to be the death of him, he just knew it!

"Is the concept of just relaxing while I do this _that_ strange?" She was already snaking back to his body again. "Do you _always_ have to be the one doing the work?"

"Yes." He bit his lip.

Her fingers were running up his thighs now, working their way back to his heated member with a painfully slow pace. Even after all that, she was _still_ testing him. It had just been made strictly clear how she was driving him crazy with these games, and yet she still did it!

Jeez - Why was he even putting himself through this?

 _Why_ was he allowing himself to suffer so, when he could easily just flip her on her stomach and slam into her? He'd always had to hold back when he was inside her, his instincts raging at him to pound away until he was nothing more than a satisfied mess. But she had made it clear she required more _delicacy_ than that, and it was always a struggle enough to hold back as it was.

 _Now_ she was purposely tormenting him, and if there was ever a time that she deserved to have some sense pounded into her, now was it.

He'd even warned her, hadn't he?

He'd **told** her very much of what he wanted to do, and still she sat so smugly with his dick in her hands – as if he were a present she was taking her time in unwrapping...

... _THAT was IT._

Vegeta decided then and there that he was going to do things his way. He put his palms against the mattress, readying to push himself so he could yank Bulma off her throne of superiority, but something suddenly happened that made him pause.

Kami, he didn't _just_ pause.

He let out another loud groan, his hips spastically jolting as his head slammed back down into the pillow. It was rather violent, to be honest.

He couldn't even think - could hardly even breathe! No longer was he going mad with the need to screw. No longer was he having an internal battle with his body, and what it wanted.

All he could do was lay there, his mouth hanging open like a mindless idiot, with only four words on his mind – _this must_ _ **never**_ _end._

She wanted to lecture him about being loud again, but Bulma was rather pleased with his reaction this time. She decided that, if she had to pick, she'd rather him be uncontrollably shouting his praises than gurgling as if he were about to die. However, it wasn't right to just allow such vulgar noises to be made when there were others around that could hear, so Bulma lifted her head so she could give him a quick reminder. "Shh-"

"I know!" He growled, not even moving his head. "I wont - just keep - do **not** stop again!"

"Consider this a favor..." She whispered. Her hand was wrapped around his throbbing member, her breath hitting his skin as she spoke. "Now, try not to yell or take over. Think of this as _a new_ method of training..."

And then she lowered herself back down, her lips wrapping around the tip of his flesh in a way that made the muscles in his legs tremble.

He was muttering a series of indistinguishable syllables, and they all sounded like a mixture of different languages that Bulma had never heard before. She still had her fingers firmly wrapped around his member, her mouth slowly dragging down his flesh as she took more of him inside.

Kami, he was a challenge. He seemed to grow even larger in size as she took him in, and his grumbles quickly dissipated into a sharp series of hisses. She listened as his hand reached out and grabbed at the bed, clawing at it as his muscles began to quiver even more.

She might have wondered what type of damage he was currently inflicting on the mattress, had she not been distracted. But all the could focus on was the sounds of his breaths, the bobbing of his hips, and her own rhythm that she was trying to maintain as she began to slide her mouth up and down along his skin.

She would take him in as deep as she could - just to the point that his tip was nudging the back of her throat, and then she would slowly draw him out, her fingers massaging the skin that wasn't currently in her mouth.

His gasps were growing louder, yet were muffled all the same, and it sounded as if he had pulled a pillow over his face to stifle himself. Bulma, who had been working slowly, took this as encouragement to increase her speed. And so she did, bobbing up and down her hand mimicked the movements along his base.

Kami, this was incredibly _hot_ \- and she'd never heard him making noises like this, not even during their past interactions! It seemed that he was completely losing his mind, his hips rising off the bed to meet her oral thrusts as she continued pumping him with everything she had.

One of his hands shot to her head, and his fingers dug into her hair. She cringed at the roughness of his touch, but Bulma figured it wasn't intentional. Letting out a moan despite her mouth being full, she continued on with even more vigor as she moved. She could tell he was nearing his peak, and so she started a motion of tightening and loosening her lips as they brushed his skin, creating a ripple effect as she worked.

His hand dug even deeper into her hair.

_Ouch!_

This was actually starting to hurt.

He was digging his fingertips into her scalp, scratching deeper with each passing second. The muffled groans continuing from above, his hips still shifting and rising to meet her enthusiastic pumps. Bulma was really cringing now, trying to power through his grip, but her pain threshold was starting to reach its limit.

And, just when Bulma decided she couldn't take it anymore and would have to stop, a force hit the back of her throat so suddenly that she struggled to keep from throwing up. Vegeta's hand was instantly gone from her head, his body convulsing and twitching as he filled her mouth with his load. He was moaning, huffing, hissing, and sweating, and he was still rhythmically moving against her when she pulled away.

She had wanted to continue rubbing him as he road off his orgasm, and Bulma was trying her best to maintain her composure, but her gag reflex had already been triggered, and she was losing the battle. Unable to take it anymore, she pulled back so abruptly that she fell back off the bed, coughing and hacking like someone who was choking.

Vegeta had been clutching the blanket underneath him as he rode through his ecstasy, but he quickly sat up when he heard Bulma's commotion. She was sitting on the floor by the foot of the bed, red and puffy faced as tear streamed down her cheeks, breathlessly coughing and hitting herself in the chest. "Look at you..." He whispered.

The Bluehead wiped some tears from her eyes, chest heaving as she pursed her lips in attempt to gain control of her lungs.

"I knew that was going to happen!" Vegeta was breathless, but still managed to sound cross, even after what he'd just enjoyed. "I tried to warn you! You didn't pay attention!"

"I..." Bulma coughed again. She took in a deep breath, swallowing as much air as she could, and slowly let it all out. That seemed to finally do the trick, for her lungs had stopped convulsing and she slowly was able to regain her voice. "I could have prevented that, I have a method - but I was distracted. You were really hurting me. I wasn't able to-"

"I _hurt_ you?" The saiyan jumped from the bed. "Damnit, this is what I was talking about! I didn't want to lose control of myself and injure you throat!"

"I'm fine." Bulma replied. He was by her side now, looking closely at her face as if he'd detect some sort of a wound on her. She leaned away, shaking her head. "Not like _that_... It was my head. Your fingers were-"

"I was trying to get you to stop." He interrupted. "I knew I was going to finish, and I didn't want-"

"It's fine!" Bulma replied again. Now she was actually starting to feel a bit shy under the radar of Vegeta's eyes. He seemed so absolutely astounded and concerned, and it'd been the last thing she'd expected when she had decided to perform this act. "I was expecting for you to, well… you know. I was just caught off guard because your fingers were hurting me..."

She pushed herself up onto her feet. There was a mess on the front of her gown, a souvenir of everything she'd failed to swallow down. "Next time it'll end better, okay?" She commented, turning towards the door. "Just don't clamp down on my head again, and I won't be distracted."

"Where are you going?" Vegeta asked. It was then that Bulma realized he was still out of breath.

"I need to rinse off."

"Oh."

"Do _you?_ "

"No. I feel rather clean, actually. You made sure of that."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure I got everything on MYSELF…"

… Vegeta watched as she disappeared out the door, leaving him alone as he stood in the center of the room. Still in disbelief at everything that had just happened, he clambered over to the bed and sat down.

_Stunned._

He was absolutely stunned.

This race of Earth weaklings sure had... _creative_ ways about them, didn't they?

It was strange, Vegeta was feeling dumbfounded - absolutely blindsided by what had just occurred. He'd wanted to just fuck the hell out of her and listen to her moan, to feel her squirm and beg him for more. He was somewhat disappointed that this hadn't come to fruition, and yet he still felt immensely satisfied.

He was completely satiated, and, amid the mix of everything else that was quivering through his body, Vegeta also felt incredibly lucky.

 _Grateful,_ even.

This hadn't seemed pleasant for Bulma in the slightest, and yet she had been so utterly enthusiastic about it. She hadn't even complained when she'd nearly suffocated on his release! All she'd done was smile, and he was amazed at what she was willing to be put herself through in order to bring him to pleasure

For him, it had been worth it. He'd let her do that again to him indefinitely, if she insisted. It had happened so fast, had felt like such a whirlwind, and he was already wishing to get sucked in again.

He heard as water began to run through the pipes in the walls. And he fell back, his head spinning as he ran a hand through his hair.

"What a woman..."

.

It wasn't that long before Bulma slipped back in the room, shutting off the light as she went. She crawled into bed, found a spot beside the saiyan, and curled up in the blanket.

He rolled over so he could put his arms around her, and he pulled her into his body. She was quick to nuzzle against him, listening to the deep draws of his breath as he relaxed against her.

He had been asleep, but he was awake enough now to plant a kiss on her forehead in the darkness.

"Vegeta." Bulma whispered, knowing that if the saiyan prince would ever be in an agreeable mood, it would be after what they'd just done. "I wanted to tell you. Gohan will not fight with you. He's going to stay with me."

"He already told us he wanted to proceed," The saiyan replied groggily, sounding as if he was still asleep. "You're too late with this."

"It doesn't matter what he said - he's a child. I am making the decision _for_ him."

"Perhaps if he was a human, like you, I might consider that. But he has saiyan genes in his blood, and it's in his will to fight."

"His _mom_ was a human."

"Right. And his dad was a _saiyan_."

"Vegeta-" She started, but his arms tightened around her. He put a hand to the back of her head, pressing her cheek into his chest.

"Don't." He whispered. "Just go to sleep, Woman... It's late."

His chest was so warm, and the safe feeling that came with his large arms protectively holding her was too tempting to resist. She was already drifting into her dreams, so his suggestion didn't even feel unreasonable…

But, with the last trace of consciousness she had left, the Bluehead sighed. "I am _going_ to win with this..."

"No." Vegeta said, planting another kiss on the top of her head. "You _won't…"_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long enough as it is, so I'll make it quick. I've written lemon scenes before, but I think this is my first time writing a scene like that one. This entire chapter was a flex for my writing muscle, but that's something I really enjoy about this story. It's brought me out of my comfort zone so many times, and I think I really needed to experience that.
> 
> Thank you for your feedback, as always. It probably gets old for me to say that every time I update, but I don't think I'll ever stop feeling so flattered and grateful when I see responses to what I write.
> 
> Have a great weekend! And, just so you know, the next update will probably be much shorter than this one was... but who cares about that?! It's already in the works, and that's all that matters! :)


	27. I Was Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this up just in time for Valentine's Day, but I missed it. :)

* * *

"Gah! Can't I do ANYTHING without someone interfering?!"

Bulma had given up on trying to squirm her way out of Piccolo's hold, and had her arms folded over his chest as she limply hung from his grip. She was pouting dramatically, Piccolo's green fingers were holding her as far away from his body as possible with only one arm. He was holding her as if she were some foul piece of sludge that he didn't want getting on his clothes, and for all she knew, she _was_.

Piccolo was flying her home, and neither of the two were happy about it in the slightest.

"Will you just let me go? All I want is to find the 6th dragon ball - is that _so_ hard to ask?" She was groaning now. "And why are YOU here instead of Vegeta, anyway? Where is he?!"

"This is the 3rd time someone has had to go after you in two days." Piccolo scowled. "You've been giving us nothing but trouble, and you might learn your lesson better if I'm the one to take you home this time. Vegeta suggested it, since we all know how terrified you are of me."

Cheeks turning red, Bulma had been ready for her retort, but she now clamped her mouth shut instead. It was true - she definitely did have her reservations about the man who was currently taking her home against her own will, but _he_ didn't need to know that! Why would Vegeta tell him such a thing? _'I'm going to kill him!'_ She thought, furrowing her eyebrows. _'When I get back, Mister Saiyan Prince is-'_

"You need to stop doing this." Piccolo suddenly snapped. "Every time you pull something, _I'm_ the one who has to listen to Vegeta bitch and complain about it for hours in the gravity room. Not only is that beyond annoying, but it's also screwing up our training."

" _That's_ exactly the _point!_ " She shot back.

It had only been two days since Bulma had vowed to the saiyan prince that she would be successful in tarnishing his plan, and she had already attempted so much. Despite still being tired and suffering from random spurs of nausea, Bulma had given it her all.

She'd tried to convince Gohan to change his mind. She'd even tried to persuade him with the promise of an endless buffet. But the boy had only shrugged and said he could feed himself if he needed to.

On the first night after her vow, Bulma had announced to Vegeta that she'd never sleep with him again if he didn't stop with his plans. But he had only acted annoyed, told her to suit herself, and had gone to sleep without another word. This had been a bit of a disappointment for the Bluehead, especially since she had been wanting to have a tumble with him all day...

The following morning she had even capsulated the gravity room and tried to hide it! But Gohan, of all people, was successful in finding it tucked away in the same drawer that she kept her hairdryer in…

Feeling desperate, Bulma had even gone to the extreme measure of cutting off the gravity room's circuits, which rendered the machine useless. _This_ had been the offense that angered Vegeta the most, and yet it still hadn't worked. After he realized that the machine wasn't going to power on, he'd gone storming into the house looking for her.

" _WOMAN!"_ He'd barked. _"WHAT did you DO to the gravity room!? IT ISN'T WORKING!"_

" _I'm only going to fix it AFTER we get the seventh ball!"_ She had yelled back. _"You can't make me! I DARE you to try forcing me to turn it back on!"_

" _Fine, you banshee!"_ Vegeta had barked back. _"Act smug, but know you have not won. Exaggerated gravity is useful, indeed, but we don't NEED it to effectively train! Just watch and see!"_

And then, screaming obscenities and blasting a tree down in his path, Vegeta had stormed outside and retreated back into the gravity room, refusing to buckle under her sanctions.

… And that had been that.

There was no way Bulma could use physical force on anyone, and since nobody would listen to anything she said, she had decided to carry on with searching for the dragonballs on her own…

… The first time, she took off while everyone was locked away in the gravity room. She'd made it an hour before Vegeta showed up in front of her plane and ripped her out of it. He'd yelled at her about this the entire way home, which had been a predictable rant that consisted mostly of insults and shouts about how irresponsible, unsafe, and idiotic she was.

The second time Vegeta had been even more angry, and she'd only managed to be airborne for about 20 minutes before he showed up. The saiyan had been so mad that he hadn't spoken to her, hadn't even LOOKED her way for the rest of the day. This was an interesting turn of events, especially considering that the last thing he'd said to her that morning was that he was going to keep a very close eye on her.

Of course, each time Bulma tried to argue that it made sense for her to at least fetch the remaining dragon balls while they all trained, but the saiyan wouldn't hear any of that.

"Even if you _didn't_ have a run in with the Androids, do you _really_ think it would go without conflict?" He had snapped at one point. "You attract confrontation wherever you go, and someone needs to be there to get you out of it!"

"Yeah? Well I was doing JUST fine before I met you, and I'll be perfectly fine NOW!"

… Kami, her words had gone to deaf ears.

… Now she was being hauled back by Piccolo, who didn't seem any happier about this than she was. Each time she was forced out of her plane it only made her angrier and more determined than before, and now she was thoroughly pissed. Somehow it hurt that Vegeta had sent this green monster to retrieve her instead, especially since he knew just how uneasy it would make her. The Bluehead was already planning her next course of action, biding her time until they reached the house.

"I wish you would just stop doing this." Piccolo growled suddenly, which effectively broke the Bluehead out of her brooding. "You're so annoying, you know. I don't see why Vegeta puts up with you. He can't even handle when his footing gets backwards during a kata. How the _hell_ does he tolerate _you?_ "

"I'm not _that_ bad..." Whether she wanted to be or not, Bulma was actually offended by what this guy said. Why did she even care what _he_ thought of her, anyway? "I just want to find the dragon balls, and I don't want Gohan getting hurt. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, but clearly Vegeta won't stand for you hunting them down right now, so you might as well just stop. He throws a tantrum each time you pull something, and I'm getting tired of dealing with _him_. Whether you like it or not, we're doing this. He's more than sure that we'll succeed, and if somehow we _do_ fail then I know he'll be convinced that it's time to get the damned balls."

"Yeah, but if you guys DO FAIL, then the balls might not even exist anymore!" Bulma's voice began to croak, and she had to quickly bite her lip to keep from losing her composure. Once again the worry of impending doom was kicking back up, and as soon as the words left her mouth there was a lump building in her throat. "Vegeta and Gohan might not even exist anymore, either... Why do I feel like I'm the only sane one here? I don't understand why you guys are acting like it's all so simple, when it's not..."

"He'll be fine." Piccolo cut in. "I won't let anything happen to him. If a worst-case scenario arises, I'll make sure he gets out safe."

"But..."

"Look, I wasn't planning on telling the kid, because he's even more worrisome than you. _You_ told him about my connection to the dragon balls, though, so he and I had a talk. Nothing bad is going to happen to me, and if something does, there is another way."

This was all getting so morbid, and so quickly, too. Bulma was curious, but she didn't want to ask. It seemed that everyone was acknowledging the risks more than she'd given them credit for, but now she felt even worse. If they knew what types of horrors could ensue, and they weren't just ignoring them, then why even risk it?

 _Why_ throw themselves into a preventable situation that had such dire consequences? Especially when they knew what exactly could happen?!

"Piccolo..." Bulma sighed. "What do you _mean_ there's another way...?"

"I have heard reputable rumors that there is another set of dragon balls. They are on my planet of origin. If the balls we have on Earth stop working, then the ones on Namek will be able to correct things. Vegeta should have no problem finding Namek, either. From what I hear, he's aware of nearly every traversed planet there is."

"Wait- he _shouldn't_ have trouble? So he isn't even confident about this?!"

"He doesn't know."

"WHAT?!"

"If he knew about my connection, he wouldn't stand for me being present during the battle. He'd want to take the kid on his own, and it would only end up causing more of a power struggle than there already is. I may not participate in the fight between them and the Androids, but I want to at least be there in case things get disastrous. There's no way I'm leaving Gohan in only his hands."

This actually comforted the Bluehead - to an extent. It was reassuring to hear just how protective Piccolo was over Gohan, that was to be sure. "But... Vegeta still needs to know. I figured he already did, and was just being crazy. But now... if he knew..."

"Tell him if you want, it's not like I can stop you." Piccolo grunted. "But the guy is an _asshole_. I don't like talking to him any more than I have to."

" _Really_?"

"He is the least calm person I've ever met, and he loses it over any small thing. It's despicable. Just because we need to work together right now doesn't mean I have to like him. Gohan is almost as strong as Vegeta now - when he's completely powered up. His training is going well, and that's all I care about."

"Huh..." Bulma blinked, and she remained quiet for several seconds. Something just didn't add up. "...But, doesn't he know you aren't planning to fight? Isn't he curious about that?"

"He thinks it's funny." Piccolo rolled his eyes. "He thinks it's because I'm scared and want to learn something from watching... Of course he doesn't assume there could be any other reason I'd want to stand back. No - he immediately decided it had to do with his own ego. I told you - the guy is an ASSHOLE."

As much as she'd had her concerns about Piccolo, Vegeta's decision to have him go after her and to scare some sense into her had greatly backfired. Now the Bluehead felt more at ease with Gohan's situation, and there was even a new hope that she'd get them all to stop with their plans!

Once she had the chance to talk to Vegeta and inform him of Piccolo's case, the Bluehead was completely sure he would find this motivating enough to actually hunt down the rest of the balls instead of pursuing this stupid scheme!

' _So, THERE,'_ The Bluehead thought smugly as the closed her eyes to wait out the rest of the trip _. 'Take THAT, Vegeta. Soon you'll be telling me I was the smart one all along...'_

.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Vegeta was barking as Piccolo landed with Bulma still in tow. "HOW MANY TIMES ARE YOU GOING TO TRY THIS WITH ME?!"

She smoothed out the fabric of her shirt before patting her hair down, and then Bulma finally looked towards Vegeta. But he was already storming away - instead of to her.

It seemed that the saiyan prince had sensed their arrival, and had taken a break from his exercising _just_ to stalk outside and yell his way through their landing. He was now heading back for the gravity room, and Bulma jumped after.

"Vegeta, wait!"

She was running for him, but the saiyan abruptly turned on his heels to glare at her. The look on his face was so intense, his movements so swift, and it brought the Bluehead to a complete stop just a meter away from him.

He wasn't speaking - only glaring - but it became clear that he had no intentions on actually yelling anything. And so Bulma started again. "Vegeta, I need to talk to you."

She was panting, and her words only deepened his harsh look. "Listen to you, Woman. You can't even move twenty paces without being rendered breathless. You are obviously unwell, and yet you ACTUALLY think you'll be successful in fetching the dragon balls alone. How STUPID."

"But-"

"I have NOTHING to say to you!" He barked. "Now get back in the house, and DON'T attempt another runaway! Do you understand that?!"

A vein was starting to throb in his forehead, and behind them Bulma could hear Piccolo grumbling to himself about an "insufferable baby". Normally she would have been upset by the tone the saiyan prince had used towards her, but the Bluehead had expected it.

The entire point to all of this was to piss him off, wasn't it?

She _wanted_ him to get so aggravated that he finally gave up and let her have her way, simply in not wanting to deal with it anymore…

"Okay..." She said, sending him an innocent shrug. "Fine. We'll talk later tonight. After you've waisted another full day with training. Have it your way."

Vegeta didn't reply. He simply turned around and stormed into the gravity room, slamming the door behind as he went. Bulma briskly walked past Piccolo, who was now grumbling about how _"some people need to learn how to relax, man."_ as he followed Vegeta's lead.

She strolled into the house, threw herself on the couch, and kicked up her legs. It would have taken a lot for her to remain so calm after being told she didn't have a right to even move around on her own, but at that moment she was actually content. Once Vegeta learned about Piccolo, he wouldn't want to proceed. She knew him well enough to at least know _that._ He would risk his own life with his antics, but he wouldn't risk losing his one chance as receiving his wish...

"Right, Vegeta..." She sighed, deciding now was a good time to take an afternoon nap. "Vegeta will have zero points, and Bulma will have one... I knew I was going to win…"

..

A loud choking sound elicited from the Bluehead's throat as she sat upright on the couch. Something had stirred her awake, and a deep sense of horror was immediately upon her. It had been so strong that she had to desperately gasp to swallow in all the oxygen her body needed, her heart feeling as if it had been petrified from even beating.

The living room was completely dark, and Bulma quickly realized her nap had stretched into hours. She had slept the rest of the day away, and there was no telling what time it was.

Yet she sat in place, too horrified to move. Gasping and coughing, trying to overcome the shaking sense of doom that was shadowed on her. It was clear that her body was trying to alert her of something looming, and all she could do was stare into the darkness as her mind flew.

Nothing good could come from something that felt like _this_...

...

"You worked up a sweat today." Vegeta was saying. "Not bad, considering we don't even have a GRAVITY MACHINE." The saiyan was pulling his shirt back on as he grumped. Their training session hadn't been the most effective - they had had much better days, by far.

"Great. Don't even start again about the gravity machine being out." Piccolo was standing beside Gohan, and he was ready to retreat to his tree for the night. Each day spent locked between these walls with Vegeta seemed to feel even longer than the last, and he had been waiting for the day to end since the morning.

"Take a shower before you go to sleep, kid." Vegeta was grumbling now, nodding at Gohan as he did so. "I don't want the couches to start stinking of our training sessions."

"A shower? Now?" Gohan let out a loud groan, sounding somewhat like a confused sheep. "But I'm _tired!"_

"You need to learn proper hygiene at some point." The saiyan prince growled back.

"If the couches are an issue, then you _could_ start sleeping outdoors again." Piccolo suggested. "I think the house if making you go soft, anyway."

"But I LIKE the couch!" Gohan laughed this time, shaking his head at his green mentor. "You should try it, Mr. Piccolo!"

"I don't _need_ that." He smirked back.

Vegeta let out a gagging noise, one that he always produced when he felt that Piccolo and the kid were starting to become too sappy with one another. "Speaking of soft," He began, readying himself to shoot an insult at Piccolo for how sentimental he was with the boy, but it never left his lips.

Instead the saiyan froze, his face dampening.

Gohan and Piccolo had been looking his way, both prepared to hear some snarky comment about their weaknesses. It seemed odd when it never came, and the distracted glint that formed in Vegeta's eyes was enough to raise concern.

"What is it?" Piccolo inquired, but he didn't receive a reply.

"Mr. Vegeta?"

"Damn!" The saiyan prince suddenly barked. A wave of energy erupted around him as he abruptly powered up.

"What's wrong?" Gohan tried again.

"It's BULMA!" The saiyan took off for the door.

"What's wrong with Miss Bulma?" Gohan turned to Piccolo.

"She feels fine to me." Piccolo shrugged. "And she's not going anywhere. I don't know what his problem is."

"She's afraid, you idiots! Something's wrong!"

" _Afraid?"_ Piccolo and Gohan both asked in unison. And then Gohan stepped forward. "How do you know? Can you sense emotions, Mr. Vegeta?!"

 _Of course_ he could! Did they mean to say that neither of them could feel the horror dripping from that woman's aura at that exact moment? Vegeta would have yelled something about how stupid they were, but there was no time for that!

In an instant he was flinging open the door to the capsule house, and he quickly threw the light switch. He looked into the living room to see Bulma, who was visibly shaking on the couch. She was holding her knees, and a look of relief fell on her face when she saw him.

"What's wrong?" He demanded, running to her side. "What happened?"

"I don't know." She replied sheepishly, and she reached her arms out to grab for him.

"What do you mean, _you don't know?"_ He held her back, though his posture was stiff and he was obviously on edge.

"I feel like I'm being watched." She choked, so shaken that the words were having trouble leaving her lips. She was whispering, still shaking, and the Bluehead didn't even think to ask how he'd known something was wrong. Bulma swallowed down a lump, her voice even softer when she spoke again. "I feel like I'm going to die... Something terrible is about to happen."

"Watched...?" Vegeta let go of her, careful not to let her fall on the floor as he did so. Bulma curled back into the couch, watching as the saiyan made his way back to the house's front door. "Hold on." He said, listening carefully. Sure enough, in the distance he could hear a low humming sound that was piercing through the night sky. "Shit."

"What?" Bulma asked, but the saiyan ran out. "Veggie! Wait!"

He appeared right in front of her again, looking exasperated. "Now isn't the time, Woman! This isn't good!"

"In the bedroom, on the shelf by the wall." She replied. "The senzu beans-"

But the Bluehead didn't have to explain any further. In an instant Vegeta had disappeared from view, and a moment later he was back in front of her, brandishing the bag like a prized jewel. "Good thinking." He said. "Now stay here."

"Be careful!" She yelled, feeling helpless as she watched him darting away again. And that was all she was able to say before the door slammed, and she was left by herself in the quiet of the dark house…

When Vegeta returned to the outdoors, the small bag stuffed in a pocket, Piccolo and Gohan were standing alert.

"It's them." Piccolo announced when he spotted the saiyan prince, nodding towards the sky.

"Of course it is!" He barked back. "What did you THINK it was?!"

But now wasn't the time to lecture those two on their slow wits. He needed to create a diversion to steer the androids away from the house. To keep them from discovering their base. "Follow my lead!" He shouted, not even looking back to confirm they understood before he took off into the air.

"We've already been this way, Eighteen!" Seventeen was yelling over the wind that was slapping him in the face. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"We haven't!" She scowled. "For the last time, we took off that other way when we came through this area. There might be an entire city we missed over here!"

"Well, I say there's nothing, because we've already _been_ through here!"

"We have NOT!" Eighteen stopped in place, twirling around to look her twin brother in the eye. "I'm sick and tired of you always trying to dictate everything!"

"It's because I'm right." Seventeen, who had also come to a stop, replied calmly, despite the fact that he was clearly wrong.

"You aren't. When that guy disappeared and we went off looking for him, we headed in the opposite direction. THAT way." Eighteen pointed her finger out to the side for effect. "You're the one who's mixed up."

"Whatever." The male slicked his shoulder length black hair behind his ear, a mimic of his blonde sister's trademark move. "We're here, aren't we? Let's just go check it out, but when it turns out I'm right you'll owe me."

"You're on!" Eighteen glared competitively, but just as she was about to hold her hand out for a high five, something warm braised past her face. She watched in slow motion as something bright flew by and collided with her brother's neck, sending him shooting down into the crust of the Earth with a loud rumble as he collided into it.

It didn't even take turning around for Eighteen to decide who it was, and the voice she heard only confirmed this.

"So. Back for more, are you? I can't say I blame you, girl. I wouldn't be able to get enough of myself, either."

Eighteen didn't flinch at reaction to Vegeta's taunts. She didn't even look at him. Slowly and calmly, she tilted her head towards the Earth and called down to the hundreds of meters below. "So! You ready to admit I was right?"

As if on cue, Seventeen appeared right beside her. His clothes were considerably more tattered than they had been a moment earlier, but otherwise he looked completely untouched. "Yeah, I guess you _were_ right." He muttered, and it was amazing that he didn't even appear to be annoyed at his patted the dust from his shoulder. Then he looked up at Vegeta, shooting the saiyan a shrug. "Hey, you got stronger."

"Of course I did!" Vegeta frowned back. "Are you some kind of idiot?"

But Seventeen didn't care to reply to that. He merely cracked his knuckles, one by one, still looking Vegeta in the eyes. And then, when he was done, he finally blinked. "Okay." He said. "It's time to have some fun."

"Good luck." The saiyan began to build distance between himself and the androids. "You'll have to catch me first, you dimwitted earwig"

"What does that even mean?" Seventeen turned to his sister, but Vegeta didn't give Eighteen time to reply. He took off, catching the attention of both of the Androids, who immediately shot after him.

"I'm not ready to do this!" Gohan was wailing as he and Piccolo flew. They were tracing Vegeta's ki as he led the Androids away. It seemed as if they were heading back to the camp that the boy and his mentor had resided at when they'd originally started training together.

"You've been saying you want to get this over with, haven't you?" Piccolo was right behind the boy as they flew.

"But not like _this!_ I thought it would be first thing in the morning or something! We were training all day! I'm too tired now!"

"So, it was a good thing Bulma deactivated the gravity machine, after all! You haven't been exerting yourself nearly as much as you normally do. You'll be fine! Just remember to do your job!"

The boy gulped. His _job_ , as Piccolo referred to it, was to do exactly what he was now. He was supposed to create diversions, make noise, attract the attention of the Androids. And then when they went after him, he was to lead them on a goose chase, looping them around and right back to Vegeta when they least expected it.

 _That_ was why so much stress had been put on him building up his speed. _That_ was why he had been forced to fly countless laps under high gravity, trying to beat his own record each time.

He wasn't even expected to throw any punches at the Androids, unless it became necessary, of course. But that didn't make him any less nervous about what was uncontrollably laying ahead. Deciding it was best not to focus on that and to try and stay calm instead, Gohan gulped. He wished this flight would last for days, yet he knew it would be the shortest flight of his life…

.

"So, what we have here are a couple of fools." Vegeta had reached his destination, standing by the shore of the lake as the Androids closed in on him. He was pleased - _very_ pleased. His speed had improved drastically since his last run-in with the blonde one a month prior. All of the time he'd spent locked away in the gravity room had really done its part! The two had actually fallen behind as he'd flown, and 10 seconds had passed before they were finally catching up to him.

And it wasn't just the Androids that were arriving - Piccolo and Gohan were closing in, too.

They were lingering, intentionally keeping their distance from the Androids, but Vegeta could sense them. It wouldn't be long now.

For a moment the saiyan weighed the idea of throwing all he had planned away. Hell, it was clear that he'd grown faster than them! Surely if he raised its ki to the limit he'd finally be able to defeat them! The saiyan prince thought this - he heavily considered it, but at the last moment he changed his mind.

As the Androids grew closer, and he got a better look at Seventeen's unscathed body, Vegeta furrowed his brows. He had knocked that boy to the Earth. The Android had fallen hundreds of meters, and he wasn't even sporting a dent in his shell.

No, he was going to have to stick to the plan. And, to be honest, he wasn't completely opposed to this. It had been a very long time since he had fought in this way, and he was going to enjoy it.

"Good, you finally stopped!" Seventeen was calling out to him. The Androids had landed on the other side of the lake. Their faces were just as monotonous as ever, but the saiyan could tell they were finding amusement in this. They had no idea what to expect, and they were anxiously waiting to see what his move would be. Like a couple of children awaiting wrapped gifts.

"Hey!" Eighteen was calling. "Are you ready, or what? I'm starting to get bored!"

Gohan and Piccolo were slowing down, but they were hovering just above the tree tops in wait. Vegeta grinned, not even bothering to respond to the Androids. He simply raised his arm to reveal a certain device he used only on special occasions, and then he pressed a button.

In an instant the device began to elicit a warmth as it worked, and a moment later something bright shot up into the sky.

"Hey... What is that?" He heard Seventeen muttering to his sister.

"Not sure." Eighteen was replying.

The saiyan prince could feel it. Even as the moon was still rising into the sky and forming over their heads, his skin was curling with anticipation. "Luckily for you idiots, I have the capability to artificially project 17 million zeno units of Blutz Waves into the sky for absorption - even in the event that there is no full moon!" He barked. His fangs were starting to unsheathe and grow as he screamed, his heart pumping with adrenaline as his skin began to stretch.

"Blutz Waves?" One of the Androids muttered, almost sounding as if they were going to laugh now.

"Watch now, I wouldn't want you to miss this!" Vegeta's voice was deepening as his snout began to form, and in that moment he lost any care to continue with his taunts. The change was taking place, the artificial moon glistening across the hairs that were actively projecting out from his skin.

He watched with manic laughter as his height grew, lifting him up over the tops of the trees. Seventeen and Eighteen were still standing at the edge of the lake, both staring up at him as his transformation came to an end. The saiyan could tell, as he laughed and peered down at them, that they hadn't been expecting _this._

Why, that look in Eighteen's cold eyes - was that actually a hint of _fear_ he could see?

' _That's right,'_ He thought, taking a step forward that left the Earth shaking when his giant foot hit the ground _. 'Just you wait, Bulma. These teenagers don't stand a chance now. You'll see that I was right all along...'_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!!! :) :)


	28. Gohan's Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left so much feedback last chapter! I tried really hard to get this one out ASAP, because nobody hates cliffhangers more than I do. ;)
> 
> That being said, I'm nervous about posting this one. I've said it before, but this story has brought me out of my comfort zone many times. Since I don't feel the most confident about typing battle scenes, that meant that this entire chapter was an adventure! Some aspects might be a little inaccurate to canon, but please remember that this is also an AU. :)

"What happened to him?" Eighteen turned to her twin brother. "Why did he turn into _that?_ He's so ugly now!"

"And?" Seventeen shrugged. "As if he wasn't ugly before?"

"He wasn't bad."

"Oh, please."

" _What?_ He wasn't. Now he looks like some kind of-"

A loud cackle cut the Androids off, and they both looked up to see as the giant ape pointed at them. "Enjoy this chatter, why don't you? It shall be the last conversation you two will ever have..."

Interesting, Eighteen put a thoughtful finger to her chin. Vegeta was quite obviously not the same puny humanoid he had been a few moments earlier. Yet his voice was completely the same, aside from the fact that it was loud enough to rattle even _her_ ears. She wasn't scared, though. Sure, she was surprised, and even a bit annoyed, but she definitely wasn't afraid...

Perhaps it was that Vegeta was holding back, but even as he clomped towards them she could see that his speed had clearly dropped. The guy might have grown, but it had compromised his ability to achieve stealth. Never in one-thousand years would he ever be able to catch them if this was the best he could do. Why should she be worried about _that?_

"Hey..." Seventeen was now saying to his sister.

"I know. He's practically dragging his weight now."

"I don't get it. He was actually kinda fast a second ago. Why would he give that up for this?"

But a second later Seventeen let out a yell of surprise, and his body went flying at Vegeta's furry form. Eighteen watched in amazement as Vegeta's large hand reached out and grabbed Seventeen, the giant fingers wrapping around the Android's body so tightly that he couldn't move.

"You think I have lost my agility at this size, and perhaps that is partially true." Vegeta's snout was booming as he held the Android into the air. "I do not have the speed I've achieved recently in my natural state - you see, it's been a long time since I have trained as an Oozaru, and this body is only as fast as it was the last time I used it. But that doesn't mean I'm not still quick, and it doesn't mean I won't get my fun. Did you see _that_ coming, robot boy?"

"Seventeen!" The blonde Android yelled. What had _happened_ just now?! Something had thrown her sibling into that disgusting hairball, and she didn't register HOW! She had been too focused on her brother to look away and investigate, but now she turned. Standing a few paces behind was another familiar face that she hadn't seen in quite some time.

His hair was considerably shorter, and even his frame had grown in height. But Eighteen had taken a scan of his pupils during their last encounter, and the result in her database would not lie. "Hey... We _killed_ you! How-"

"You KILLED my Mom!" The boy's chest was heaving, and his voice sounded raspy. His eyes were locked in on Eighteen's, and he seemed as if he were struggling to keep his composure.

' _Well,'_ Eighteen thought. There was so much going on at once. Should she put her focus on this kid, or should she first assist her brother?

As if to answer her question, Seventeen suddenly let out a yell that she hadn't ever heard come from his mouth. She whipped around to see that Vegeta was squeezing the ever-living shit out of him, his manic laughter continuing over the Android's screams.

"This was even easier than I anticipated!" The ape was cackling. "Gohan didn't even have to put up a fight to get you to me!"

"Seventeen!" Eighteen called again. She needed to get him free! She jumped to help, but a kick landed in her back, knocking her off course. She flailed onto the ground, her face almost smearing into the dirt. It was obviously Gohan who had done it, and she growled without looking up at him. "I don't have time to hurt you right now! Knock it off!"

"You don't have a choice." Gohan spat, and his voice was even shakier and raspier with each breath he spoke. Clearly he was losing it, and she groaned. "Get away from me!"

She jumped to fetch her brother again, but this time she made it no farther than the half-way point before her body went crashing down all over again.

"STOP IT!" She barked. "I mean it!"

"No!" Gohan snarled, saliva spraying from his mouth as he stood over her.

And then, as she pushed herself up to her feet, he began to use his fists.

.

' _Damnit, Gohan!'_ Piccolo thought, gritting his teeth. This was something he had gone over with the boy so many times during their training sessions. Two rules had been established, and he was already breaking one of them.

The first was that he was to not ever, under any circumstances, look up at the artificial moon. They needed to follow to plan precisely, and transforming would be a sure way to derail everything.

The second, and possibly even more important rule, was that Gohan was not to engage in fighting any more than necessary. His only duty was to steer the Androids towards Vegeta, and he was only to use his hands if it was in self-defense. Engaging in battle would run a very likely risk that he would tire himself out and become injured, and he needed to stay as sharp as possible to ensure that this operation would be a success.

But the boy had specifically prevented Eighteen from reaching Vegeta, even when she tried on her own accord. And now the two were throwing fists at one another, and Eighteen had even managed to land a few blows.

In fact, the ratio was almost half and half. For every hit that Gohan landed on the Android, he received one back in return. The boy had grown so well at dodging assaults during his training, and yet he was doing terribly now!

Piccolo grit his teeth even tighter, struggling with the urge to yell out at the boy. But he just _couldn't_. Not _yet_.

That would blow his cover, and it was still far too early to do _that_.

He needed to wait until it was absolutely necessary... Only then should he make it known he was there...

.

"Hey! Gohan!" Vegeta was barking. He had paused with tormenting Seventeen as he noticed the boy losing his cool. "Keep it together!"

But Gohan ignored this. His teal eyes had tunnel vision as he lashed at Eighteen, throwing everything he had at her. He had told himself repetitively, ever since he had been preparing for the ambush, that he needed to be patient. But keeping his mind in tact while he was a Super Saiyan was hard enough as it was. And looking into the face of the one who brutally murdered his Mom had been too much to bear.

"Gohan!" Vegeta barked again. His giant eyes watched as the kid failed to dodge one of Eighteen's legs, her knee curling up into his solar plexus. He let out a breathless croak, liquid pooling from his lips in the process, yet he _still_ didn't relent in his aggression.

' _Damn,'_ Vegeta thought, giving Seventeen another squeeze in his frustration. It was as if Gohan had all but forgotten everything they had been training for. As if he hadn't spent a month perfecting the ability to keep control of his mind in his ascended state.

The kid was moving too desperately. His strength and his speed were certainly much better than they had been weeks earlier, but there were too many cracks in his composure. Gohan was running on the pure instinct to destroy, and he wasn't taking the time to think his moves through or fight with any strategy.

It didn't matter how much more agile the boy had become - he still had minimal experience. He just hadn't been fighting long enough for battle strategy to interwind with his instincts. The boy had strayed from the plan, and now he was going to very quickly get himself killed.

Seventeen had long ago stopped struggling in Vegeta's hold, but the ape didn't doubt that he was still alive. The android was likely just stunned, his circuits jolted from the pressure of the saiyan's hold. "Gohan, damnit!" Vegeta shouted again, as loud as he could.

But even the boom of his voice wasn't phasing the kid, who had successfully planted his fist into Eighteen's throat and was now throwing her into the lake.

"Fuck, he's like a child!" The ape grumbled. And even as he said it, he could hear Bulma's voice playing in the back of his head. In that moment, if she had been there, Vegeta was certain the Bluehead would have been hissing _"Well, what did you think would happen?! He_ _ **is**_ _a child!"_

With a groan, the saiyan held his hand out and threw Seventeen into the Earth with as much force as he could muster. The impact caused the area to shake, as if an earthquake was rumbling, a crater forming around the Android's form.

Eighteen poked her head out from under the waves of the lake. She had a look on her face as if she had been the one that Vegeta had dropped. "Seventeen." She gasped. "SEVENTEEN!"

But there was no stopping the great Ape in that moment. He might have typically spit out some snide remark to prolong his victim's horror, but he was needing to make this quick. The sooner he ended the first Android, the sooner he could make sure that Gohan lived to tell Bulma "I told you so."

With a shattering explosion Vegeta slammed his large foot down on Seventeen's body, pressing it as far into the Earth as he could. Twisting his ankle as if he were trying to work off something that was stuck to the sole of his boot, Vegeta listened to Eighteen's screams.

Her reaction was all he needed to know that this time the Android wouldn't be so resilient.

Seventeen would not be getting back up after _that_...

And then Vegeta lifted his boot, inspecting to see what damage he had done. He saw the teenager, who was laying limp against the soil. He saw wires, he saw broken flesh, and he saw silver plates of metal.

_He had done it._

Eighteen was out of the lake now. For the way she had been calling out to her brother so much up until that point, she was now surprisingly silent as she launched herself at Gohan. "This is your fault!" She said, though it didn't even come out as a yell.

Gohan whipped around to her back as she attempted to slam an elbow into his ribs. His quick dodging had obviously caught her off guard, for she paused to look over her shoulder at him. He was glaring at her, huffing as his hair continued to glow a golden hue.

He was bruised from the hits that had been successfully landed on him, and his ki was slowly starting to lower as a result of all the energy he'd been exerting. Still, Gohan didn't appear to be ready to stop anytime soon, his biceps twitching as he stared over the female Android that was right in front of him.

"This is all your fault!" Eighteen was repeating now. Her tone was curling with emotion that none of the men watching had thought she was even capable of. "You kept interfering when I tried to help him!"

"You killed my Mom." Gohan spat back. "We weren't doing anything wrong. You CAME to our home and KILLED her."

"Who cares about your mom?!" Eighteen shrieked. She opened her palm to fire a green beam at Gohan, but he simply stepped to the side to avoid the hit.

"I care." Gohan continued. His ki was starting to rise again, but it was strained. To Piccolo and Vegeta, it almost felt as if he were on the verge of blowing a fuse. One bit too high, and he might just implode.

"I LOVED her!" He was screaming now, nearly sounding as if he would burst into tears. "SHE WAS MY MOM! And you KILLED HER! I CAN NEVER FORGIVE YOU!"

"Yeah? Well you're about to die, too." Eighteen shrugged. "Gaining YOUR forgiveness is irrelevant to me, stupid!"

"Gohan!" Vegeta called then. He had been watching, intrigued by the boy's quick movements and successful dodges. But this had gone on long enough. He began to march towards the two, trees falling at each side of his body as he moved. "Gohan, knock it off! Remember why we are here, boy!"

"NO!" The child threw his head back and let out a guttural scream, a wave of energy exploding around him.

It was enough to throw Eighteen back.

It was enough to kick up water from the nearby lake.

It was enough that, a moment later when all had settled from the aftermath, the child had gone silent.

And, as Vegeta continued making his way to them, Eighteen began to laugh.

It was a high-pitched cackle, almost sounding as if she might burst into hysterical tears if she stopped to take a breath. The dust had cleared, and Gohan was slouched down on his knees. His hair had returned to its naturally black color, and he sat panting as he clawed at the ground.

"What, are you done already?!" Eighteen snickered. "You suck!"

"Shit." Vegeta's large eyes became even wider. He was pissed - this had all been entirely Gohan's fault! He'd completely strayed from the plan, had gotten cocky, and now it was all ruined. Yet it was hard to be _completely_ angry, for the depth of the situation was obvious, and there was now concern brewing. Nothing good could come from Gohan falling out, and the boy was now on borrowed time.

The giant Ape opened his snout to fire a blast at Eighteen, but he quickly thought against it. She was standing just above the boy, and any hit that would be strong enough to knock her back might finish the child off in his weakened state.

Feeling as if he was completely fucked, Vegeta did the only thing he could. He began to charge, his large limbs booming as he moved. The Earth began to shake mercilessly at the steady rattle of his quick steps, but it didn't even knock Eighteen off her feet. Instead she simply grabbed Gohan, who was only half-conscious, by the back of the shirt.

Lifting him, Eighteen began to rise in the air. She held the boy up to face level, glaring at the exhaustion in his closed eyes. He hung limply from the hand that she held him with, and she let out another mad cackle at the irony of the situation. The kid had been so hell-bent on destroying her, and all he'd managed was to overwhelm his own system.

"Stupid little..." Eighteen began to lift her free hand, aiming two fingers at the boy's forehead. But all she managed was to utter those two words, and a second later she was being slammed into the hard ground.

She half-expected it to be that giant ape who had gotten her, so the Android was surprised when she looked up to see a strange green man hovering over her instead. His cape was blowing out in the wind, and he was holding the boy tightly in his arms as he peered down at Eighteen with disgust. And then he finally spoke, a single word that only fueled her ire even more. " **Don't**."

"Don't?" She pushed herself to her feet. _"Don't?"_ She launched back into the air, throwing herself at him. "What do you mean, DON'T?!"

"Do you have a limited vocabulary, harpy?!" Vegeta shouted from behind, and Eighteen whirled to see that the giant ape was now flying at her. She froze, her blue eyes widening, unable to determine who to set her focus on.

"What's with the shocked face? You didn't know I can fly?" The ape was grinning, revealing his sharp fangs. And then he opened his snout even wider, a burst of red shooting from it. The next thing Eighteen knew, she was shifting to the side to avoid being hit with the energy beam, and she let out a scream of frustration.

This entire ordeal was becoming so complicated, and so quickly. She'd assumed that Vegeta wouldn't be able to fly anymore - not after seeing that he was slower in speed with his Oozaru form. And now he was puking energy blasts at her?!

Where did any of this come from?!

None of it was computing!

Eighteen turned, deciding it was best to focus her attention on the green man first. Her database had finally found his file, and she knew him to be Piccolo. His power level was lower than the giant ape, and the sooner she got rid of him, the less distractions she'd have during her upcoming battle with Vegeta.

And so she zapped him, but she hardly grazed his arm as he took off. Piccolo was still holding the now unconscious child in his arms, determined to find a safe spot to hide the boy. He could hear Eighteen coming after him, knew that he couldn't outrun her speed, and the green mentor sighed.

He had dipped into the trees, finding a crook by one of the trunks to nestle the boy in. And then he turned, knowing fully well that the Android would be behind him.

"Eighteen." He mumbled when he saw her, standing his ground.

Back by the lake, Vegeta had retreated in his chase. He was presumably waiting for her to be lured back out where he could assault her without risking Gohan's safety, and Piccolo nodded in silent acknowledgement of this.

"I'm really pissed off." The Android was huffing. "Really - I mean it! You have NO idea!"

"I didn't think you were able to feel emotion." Piccolo actually chuckled. "Interesting."

"I _was_ a human, you know!" She barked. "Just because I've been upgraded to assume perfection _doesn't_ mean I can't still get angry!"

"And who upgraded you?" The Namekian stepped away Gohan slowly. He was watching her eyes carefully as he moved, making sure that she didn't glance down at the boy as his body became exposed.

"It doesn't matter WHO did it! We killed him!" She had her hands on her hips as she yelled.

In that moment, if one hadn't already been aware of the damage she was capable of inflicting, one would have found her to be nothing more than a mere helpless girl. Cheeks flushed as if she had been crying. Heartbroken about losing a family member, angry and helpless at the sensation of betrayal. This female had always trusted in Seventeen's ability to prevail, no matter what, and she was right in the middle of a rude awakening.

"So, you killed your own Dad. What did he do to earn the privilege?" Piccolo was still speaking calmly, even as his cape began to rise from the energy he was channeling. His ki was charging, readying, preparing for what was inevitably going to come. This conversation was merely the eye of the storm.

"He _made_ me." She stepped back. "He didn't even ask if I wanted to _be_ this! He just… did it."

"None of us are asked whether or not we want to be brought into this world, but sometimes you've just got to let that shit go." Piccolo was pointing two fingers in Eighteen's direction, narrowing his eyes.

The Android understood his gesture, but still didn't relent. If anything, her expression softened at the prospect of receiving an energy beam. She knew he wouldn't do any damage, and _she_ knew that _he_ knew this, as well. It was intriguing, to say the least.

Instead of zapping her, though, Piccolo suddenly turned his aim to a nearby tree instead. With a crack, a large limb of wood began to fall from the overhead leaves. Eighteen jumped back to avoid the collision, and that was when the Namekian launched.

.

The dragon balls were piled up on the dining room table, and Bulma was seated across from them with a cup of raspberry tea. She had been closely watching the balls all night, anxiously waiting to see it they might change at any moment.

It was the only indicator she had as to the progress of the battle that was taking place.

If those balls turned into stone, then Bulma would know that Piccolo had been killed. And, through reasonable deduction, the Bluehead would be able to assume that Vegeta and Gohan weren't doing very much better.

Thus, for now, all she could do was assume that things were currently going well. The balls were still glowing their ember hue, still radiating power as they sat together and fed off one another.

With a sigh, Bulma took another sip. Her muscles felt exhausted from all of the trembling she'd done earlier, but in that moment she was physically relieved. She was worried, indeed, but at least her body was at peace.

It was true that she had been a hyperventilating mess when she'd woken from her nap. But as soon as Vegeta had held her she'd started to feel better. Not only had her shot nerves started to settle, but an odd sensation in her stomach had calmed too. She had been so distraught with terror that she didn't even realize how badly her stomach was throbbing until it stopped, and it left a lingering sensation in his heart as she considered what _that_ could mean.

She knew that feeling safe near Vegeta was what had calmed her, even though Bulma was now worried about how the battle was going. But there was also a voice in her head telling her it had been his presence that had eased her stomach pains, and that was something she couldn't understand quite as well.

And yet, at the same time, she did. She knew exactly what that could mean.

How could being near do _that?_

All she knew was what she felt. And, with nothing to even base this suspicion on, her instincts were telling her that her body was happy. It wasn't just _her_ that was happy, though. There was the _other_ that was growing inside, and _IT_ had been happy to be near Vegeta, too...

ACTUALLY, Bulma couldn't be too sure that _IT_ hadn't been the one that had alerted her of the Android's presence in the first place…

As crazy as it seemed, the Bluehead was convinced that somehow her baby had known. It had known, it had woken her up and warned her, and it had been pleased to have Vegeta nearby. It felt that he was the one who would be able to correct the situation.

"Is this a saiyan thing?" She pondered out loud, looking down at her belly as if it would answer. "An... _instinctual_ thing… that saiyans have?"

… It didn't answer.

... Not that she was too surprised.

There was no kick, no _feeling_ , not even an increase of her own pulse. Bulma took another sip at the tea she had made, looking back up at the table. Her eyes sparkled when she saw that the dragon balls were still intact.

For now, at least, Piccolo was still alive. This meant that the battle was going well...

_... Didn't it?_

.

' _Wow.'_ Eighteen thought. Five minutes had passed, already. This encounter with Piccolo had had been nothing more than a game of cat and mouse, but it was quickly coming to an end.

Purple blood was trickling down his right arm as she chased him, and he was currently in the process of weaving through a tight set of trees. He was sending a futile shot her way, which she easily flew around as she continued her follow.

Eighteen was surprised at just how weak he was. Compared to Vegeta's humanoid form, and even the young blonde brat that she had been dueling earlier, this guy was a joke.

But he knew what he was doing, though, she had to give him _that_. Even though his speed was sluggish and his hits were bland, it seemed that he could predict her every move. Anytime she struck, he was ready. Anytime she stood back to let him build false confidence, he seemed to understand her motives as well.

Mentally, he was twelve steps ahead of everything she did, and Eighteen was sure that this was the only reason he was still alive.

He wouldn't be for long, though, for she was so close to ending this pathetic race. They were nearing the clearing of trees that led to the lake, and the Android was going to be sure to send him to hell before she was re-exposed to that giant Ape.

It took her by surprise, then, when Piccolo froze right ahead of her.

His cape spread out behind him, the green man floated silently in the air as he waited for her to reach him. Feeling suspicious, Eighteen came to a stop three meters behind.

She watched as blood continued to drip from his body, hitting the grass below with firm _'plud, plud, plud's_. His breathing was jagged, and she could hear it from so far away. His position in the air was also inconsistent, his body dipping slightly before correcting back up as he hovered clumsily.

"Why did you get yourself involved? Eighteen frowned. "You were incompetent from the start. Why did you even try?"

And then, it happened.

Taking the Android by genuine surprise, the nearby trees suddenly ripped from the soil and were thrown back. She gasped when a large brown hand reached out and grabbed her, ripping her from the forest. Eighteen's eyes widened, and she even let out a scream as she looked up to see Vegeta's face as he pulled her in.

Piccolo listened as it all unfolded, though he didn't bother to look…

… He had done it.

He'd warded Eighteen away from Gohan, and now she was quite literally in Vegeta's would finish her in the exact way he'd taken out her brother, and the Earth would soon return to a balanced state…

Lowering himself to the grass as carefully as he could, Piccolo's legs were shaking as he staggered to the closest tree. He pressed his back against it, sliding down to a sitting position as he groaned.

"Shoulda' grabbed one of Gohan's beans before this started." He grumbled, putting a hand to his chest.

The front of his torso was covered in marks and slashes, and a pool was building under his body where he sat. Piccolo had the capability to regenerate limbs that had been dismembered, but he had long ago lost the ability to do this. It required too much energy and focus - both of which he no longer had.

The gaping hole on his chest that he was now nursing with his hand had been the main culprit. Eigteen had struck a critical artery, and too much blood had been draining from his body for nearly four minutes.

Staring out into the clearing of trees… Watching the moon glisten on the lake, as Vegeta tortured Eighteen somewhere in the background, the Android's question replayed in his mind. Piccolo had known that he didn't stand a chance against Eighteen from the very start, so why even bother?

The answer was clear, though he hardly understood it. Even as the thought crossed his mind.

... The reason had simply been _Gohan._

... His one and only _friend..._

Slowly, but steadily, everything around him was starting to spin. Piccolo knew that he was on borrowed time, and it was quickly running out. He could hardly make out the yells and sounds that indicated the struggle going on in front of him, but then his ears picked up on something that he registered all too clearly.

It was Vegeta.

The giant ape was yelling, he was screaming, and he was _falling._

Piccolo groaned as his body shook from recoil when the ape hit the ground so far away. He had to concentrate just to make sense of what was going on, but as the Namekian stared from where he sat, he could make out that Vegeta was changing.

…Reverting, actually.

The saiyan was quickly shriveling up and returning back to a humanoid build, and he was screaming through the process. It sounded as if it was a painful transition, with Vegeta cursing and convulsing as the fur quickly repelled into his skin and his snout shrank back into his face.

Piccolo could smell the foul stench of vomit, could hear the grass rustling as the saiyan quivered. And then it all stopped, and Vegeta didn't even speak. The Namekian's vision was starting the blur, but from what he could see, it didn't appear as if the saiyan was even moving. He was either unconscious… or perhaps even _worse._ Piccolo couldn't tell. He couldn't muster the concentration to sense ki anymore.

But _what_ had happened?

 _What_ had Piccolo missed that had resulted in Vegeta being the one who had fallen like this?

The Namekian tried to calm his own breaths to ensure that he would hear everything going on, and he listened as a familiar voice spoke.

"Who would have thought that his tail was his source of power?"

Oh, _hell._ Was that…?!

"It _took_ you long enough to help out!" Eighteen was scolding, and Piccolo's eyes widened.

"Don't complain. I'm not exactly on my best leg." Seventeen replied. Piccolo watched as the two Androids walked into his view, and they stopped just above Vegeta's body. Eighteen seemed to be completely unsurprised as she returned to her brother's side. And that was when it registered with the Namekian. Her grief, her worry about Seventeen's fate. It had all been a ploy.

"Think he's actually dead this time?"

"Yeah. I cut off his tail, didn't I?"

"Right, but what if the tail _isn't_ his power supply?"

"Did you see the way he dropped, Eighteen? That thing was his life source!"

"Fine. You're probably right. But just to be sure…"

… A bright flash illuminated as she fired down at Vegeta's body. The saiyan didn't even growl through the blast, and when it was all over there was only silence.

"The other one was this way." Eighteen said then. "He might already be dead, too."

"Weren't there three?" Seventeen replied. The Androids were now slowly making there way to the forest, drawing a straight line towards where Piccolo sat. "What about the kid?"

"He's the only one left that would actually be _fun_ to meet again. I say we leave him alone until next time. Plus, he can wake up to discover his friends' bodies. Serves him right."

"Sure."

' _Good.'_ Piccolo couldn't help but grin at hearing this. Even if they were doing it out of grotesque motivations, those two were going to leave Gohan alone. He was going to make it to see another day.

He knew the boy would be shattered by what had just occurred, and he knew that Gohan would likely blame himself for it all. But Piccolo also knew more than anything that the boy was more resilient than he gave himself credit for, and he would do what he could to make things right.

The Namekian closed his eyes when the Androids' feet stopped in front of his body. But it wasn't out of fear – it was simply becoming too exhausting to try and focus his vision on _anything_ at this point.

' _Gohan.'_ He thought, his grin widening. _'You're going to be alright.'_

"Why does he look so happy?" Seventeen asked. He looked to his sister, his broken face clinking as he tried to raise his eyebrows at her.

"Who cares." Eighteen replied. " _You_ do the honors."

Seventeen's left arm was completely ripped apart, nothing more than a mess of wires and hanging scraps. So he raised his right one to point a finger at Piccolo, channeling the energy into his fingertip.

And then, Piccolo broke into a snigger.

He still had his eyes closed, not caring to look up at them, but the Namekian let his head drop back as he lost himself into his full blown laughter. _'They think they've won.'_ He thought. Eighteen's only saving grace had been that Gohan had over-exerted himself by trying to raise his power too high. If he had been able to keep it together, she would have been in trouble. In just a few months the boy would be even more grown, and if he stuck to his training, those two Androids were screwed.

"What's so funny ?" Eighteen demanded. It seemed that she was offended by Piccolo's ability to see humor in the situation. "Tell me!"

But the Namekian shook his head, his laughs coming out even louder.

"Never mind him." Seventeen replied, narrowing his eyes. The energy in his finger was ready, and he let it release.

.

Still seated across from the Dragon Balls, Bulma had her face slumped in her hands as she dozed the minutes away. At some point she had fallen asleep, having succumbed to the late hour.

Her position on her wobbly chair was unfortunate, though. For as her body gradually relaxed deeper into it, the chair become even more unstable against the cold ground. At some point she managed to put _just_ enough weight onto the chair, rather than on the table, and the poor Bluehead went falling back as it gave out.

She woke up with a gasp, wondering how she had managed to end up on the floor. And it took her a few more moments to gain her bearings.

In that moment all she could think about was how full her bladder was from all of the tea she'd been drinking earlier. And not only that, but Bulma was really _cold!_ Her body had grown chilly sitting like this for so long!

… A few minutes later the Bluehead had relieved herself, and had grabbed a blanket from her bed. Draping it around her shoulders as a makeshift robe, she went strolling back into the main room. Peeking out the window, the sun was barely started to reveal itself in the early morning sky.

_Had it really been_ _**that** _ _long, already?_

It was almost day!

Pulling the blanket even tighter around herself, Bulma continued to the dining room. Something just didn't feel right, but in her groggy state it was hard to put everything together and feel the severity of everything that had occurred.

That was, until she made it to the dining room and looked to the table. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped, and she felt as all the air was ejected from her body.

Was this why it had been so long, and yet nobody had returned?

On the table, where the dragon balls had once been waiting, there now lay only stone. Five grey rocks, spherical in shape and small in size, were aligned together in a neat pile.

"Oh, no."

She made her way to the table, snatching one of the stones from where it lay. It was cold against her palm, heavier than she remembered any of the dragon balls being. "No…"

She dropped it, clumsily backing away. Her back hit the side of the doorframe, and she turned to run into the living room. She couldn't believe this – how could it be true?!

She knew what this meant of Piccolo's fate. He had been defeated. And if _he_ had been killed, then that meant that the fight was going bad enough that he'd had to even get himself involved. What did that mean for Vegeta and Gohan? They obviously weren't doing well if Piccolo had seen it necessary to pitch in…

What if they were… _gone…_ too?

The pain in her stomach was returning, and Bulma pulled the blanket even tighter around her frame as she dropped herself onto the couch.

"I told you…" She whispered, shaking her head. "I _told_ you it wouldn't work… Why didn't you listen? _Oh,_ _ **Veggie…**_ "

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. This chapter was hard to write. I typed and erased so much that it started making my head spin. In the end I decided to tell it this way, not going into as full of detail as I originally planned when it came to Piccolo's fight. It was just too much, and I couldn't bring myself to do it. I hope you enjoyed. Next update shouldn't take too long!
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone who reads, subscribes, bookmarks, and/or comments. None of it is taken for granted. :)


	29. Remorse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who responded to the last update! I really enjoyed reading everyone's reactions. I would write a recap, but too much happened in the last chapter, and it all happened in a way that it's hard to simplify in a simple paragraph. If you need a refresher, just go back and re-read it. ;) Sorry!

* * *

Laughter was ringing in Gohan's ears, and that was what roused him awake. He'd been fast asleep and yet dreaming of nothing, and the harsh cracks of manic humor that were howling in the distance seemed to completely disappear as soon as be opened his eyes. He heard the rustling of leaves blowing in the wind, claps of waves in the lake as they blew from the breeze. Above the treetops was the whistle of breaking air that indicated someone was flying away, leaving the boy with the sensation that he'd missed out on something big while he'd slept.

Blinking some of the grogginess from his eyes, Gohan pushed himself up to a seated position. It was clear that he was in the middle of the forest, and he had been laying in a hollow dip of soil near the root of a large tree. The air was humid, the taste of gritty Earth on his tongue. Gohan was completely disoriented, and he really didn't understand how he got there.

The last thing he remembered was transitioning into a super saiyan, and the fear that had been pumping through his heart. He had been whispering words of encouragement to himself as he prepared for his upcoming match with the Androids… But after that? There was nothing.

"Ah!" He hissed, clapping a hand to his side as he stood. Every bone in his body felt as if it were being stung by pins and needles, and he found that his legs were resistant to budge as he pull them as he moved through the trees...

… Why was he all alone? Where _was_ everyone?

... By the lake was where Vegeta lay, and he was sprawled flat on his back as the breeze slapped him in the cheeks. Not a sound rose from his parted lips, as blood trickled down the sides of his wounded face. His right arm was twisted in an unnatural and completely broken position, a result of the large fall he had endured. And it had cracked loudly when he hit the ground, though he hadn't been aware enough to hear it.

He was practically naked, his clothes having disintegrated off his skin. There were a few scraps of his pants that had managed to withstand Eighteen's blast, and each fiber of exposed flesh was burnt so bad that it had been charred to a black leather-like state.

The breeze that was hitting his face slowly came to a halt, and after there was only silence.

Where had it all gone wrong?

Android Seventeen had been crushed - _destroyed_ under Vegeta's giant oozaru boot! Bulma had even said that finding a way to crush the two teenagers was one of the only likely options to even consider when it came to defeating them. And he'd listened to her. He'd done just that!

But, as he'd been readying himself to do the same to Eighteen, he had felt a sharp pain that rendered him motionless. It was a burning sensation that had radiated down his spine, bringing a numbness to his extremities and taking any ability to form words from his mind. Unlike anything he had encountered in his life, his limbs had instantaneously given out, and that was when he fell.

By the time he'd even landed he had already lost the majority of his size. The force of his humanoid body crashing into the Earth from such a height had been bone crushing. The irony of this hadn't been lost on the saiyan, who had tried so hard to do the same to the Androids just a few minutes prior.

It hadn't ended with just that, and Vegeta really wished it had. To revert back from his Oozaru form was always unpleasant, but this last one had been the absolute worst. It wasn't just uncomfortable - it had been _excruciating_. He'd felt as if his skin was folding inside-out, every crevice on his body churning and burning as his ape features violently dissipated, his pores shaking and his muscles rattling. He wasn't just de-transforming - the ape was being sucked right out of him! It didn't cease until he was a sputtering mess, and all will to do anything had left him. Too spent from everything to even move as he lay in his own blood, spit, and all other filth that had been exerted from his body as a result of the pressure, he couldn't bring himself to want to fight any more. Overwhelmed with all of the grief he'd felt in his lifetime, the saiyan knew that what had just happened was going to change his life forever.

Or, at least it _would_ have, if it hadn't been for the whole _dying_ thing...

He didn't even feel it when the Android blasted him. His nerves had already been through too much, and if anything it only felt like a warm blanket of relief that all of the bullshit he'd been through was finally coming to an end...

... And now he lay completely still, listening to the air around him, unable to even gather a straight thought. He couldn't replay what had happened, couldn't think of anyone or anything that might have been involved. Despite the pain that was throbbing over every slit of his skin, inside the saiyan felt absolutely nothing at all, and he never wanted to feel anything again.

He had heard what they'd done to Piccolo, but _that_ didn't even register with him. It had only been noise, and now the night air was still.

The only thing he was able to focus on was his impending fate, and it was more of his body than his mind that had alerted him that he was dying. His brain was already gone. And his muscles were accepting of this fact, gently letting him know of reality as he seemed to sink even deeper into the damp soil he lay on.

Vegeta was going to die here, and that was simply that.

... Or _was it?_

Because, as it was, there was a nudging inside that kept trying to lure him out from the abyss his head was trying so eagerly to rest into. Somewhere in his limbs was an urge telling him that it wasn't yet his time. He felt as if he were merely trying to fall asleep after an exhausting day, but there was a small sound that was keeping him from doing such a thing.

' _Senzu'_ , it said.

Senzu? What did _that_ mean? How annoying this was! Couldn't he at least _die_ in peace, without the burden of words and thoughts invading his personal space?!

' _SENZU'_

' _Stop it.'_ He thought back, the sides of his mouth twitching. _'Just shut up! I've already lost everything! Now leave me be!'_

Even as he thought the rebuttal, he knew this wasn't true. Vegeta hadn't lost _everything_... _**She**_ was several kilometers away, she was waiting for him, and she was the only thing he had left. What good would come to her if he just allowed himself to simply fade away like this?

' _SENZU.'_ The voice said it again, this time with even more urgency.

And then he realized what was going on, and his jaw tightened. That voice speaking was very familiar, and it was all starting to register with him. What he was hearing wasn't just a pest that had made a game out of refusing to let him indulge in eternal slumber - he was experiencing a memory! Suddenly the images were coming to him, catching up with the sounds. Vegeta was back at the capsule house, and he was getting ready to take off for this dreaded battle with the Androids.

" _Veggie!"_ She had screamed the last time he'd seen her. Even in his memory, the sight of her blue hair had his stomach quivering, making him want to be near those silky strands so he could will her fear away. _"Veggie! The senzu beans!"_

Oh, how he hated when she called him that. Every time that word left her lips it sent shivers down his spine, and it left goosebumps forming all along his skin. It threatened every aspect of his masculinity, insulted his proud heritage, and made him feel like a subpar brute. And yet at the same time, as soon as he'd hear her voice calling _"Veggie",_ he always felt the need to run to her, drop to his knees, and make sure that everything was okay. To make sure that _**she**_ was okay...

... Even in death, that woman still had that power over him…

But it was true - and suddenly it was all making sense. _SENZU_ was the name of those regenerating beans, wasn't it? And, thanks to Bulma, he had a small fortune of them stowed in his pocket. He didn't know if the beans were even still there after everything his body had been through, but he knew he had to check. He had to at _least_ make an effort to fetch one.

… And, with that came another burdening realization… _'Great.'_ He thought. Now he had to actually try to move.

.

Before he saw him, Gohan could hear him. He had spent the last six minutes trying to figure out how to get out of the forest with the low amount of energy he had. His ears were ringing, and anytime he moved too quickly it seemed that his head would take twenty seconds just to catch up with his body.

But he could sense Vegeta's ki, and he knew for sure that he wasn't waltzing into some trap that had been set by the Androids. When Gohan stumbled out through the clearing of the trees, he saw Vegeta's figure by the shore of the lake. The saiyan didn't acknowledge him as the boy slowly drew closer, though, for he was too consumed by what he was doing to seemingly care. Vegeta had his back turned to Gohan, the spandex rags he wore revealing chiseled muscles as he splashed himself in the face with the lake's cool water. He was trying to clean the dried blood from his skin, the black char resisting to crust off as he worked.

How he'd managed to somehow keep the senzu beans intact, he had no idea. But Vegeta had managed to use his less injured arm to retrieve one from his pocket. And now that he had his mind back to its normal capacity, he was having a hard time coming to terms with all that had occurred. Somewhere behind him the saiyan prince listened as the boy came to a stop, and he knew he was being watched.

Furrowing his eyebrows as he continued scrubbing at his face, Vegeta tried to ignore the boy's attention for as long as he could. Gohan wasn't taking the hint, though. And when the saiyan turned to glance at the kid, the boy was watching him with wide eyes.

"What is it?" Vegeta finally snapped, turning back around so he could lean over the lake and get a view of his face. The sun was rising in the sky now, and he was able to make out enough to see that he hadn't done a great job at cleaning himself off. This only made his mood even more sour.

"Um..." Gohan stumbled, as if he didn't know what to even say. "What are you... doing, sir?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?!" Vegeta shot, standing upright to send the boy a hard look. Gohan cowered under his eyes, backing away and scratching at one of his arms nervously.

"Well?" He continued impatiently.

"… Huh?"

"Are you well enough to live, or not!?" Vegeta obviously didn't like that he was even having to speak to the boy. "... Or do you need a senzu bean!? Tell me!"

"Oh..." The child looked down at his own body, taking note for the first time of how battered he really was. "Well... I'm in pain... but I think I'll be alright."

"Good." Vegeta stepped away from the lake and began to march towards him. "Because I don't know where Bulma's healing beans come from, or how accessible they are, so we need to ration the supply we have. Now, come on. We need to head back."

Gohan didn't feel the need to explain that he had his own small supply of senzu beans, shrugging his shoulders instead. "Okay. What about Mr. Piccolo?"

" _What?"_

He looked up at Vegeta, and the expression on his face gave the boy an uneasy feeling. He gulped before repeating himself, the silence between them making reality horribly apparent. "What about... Mr. Piccolo?"

The look on Vegeta's face said it all. It wasn't quite an expression of remorse, but rather of realization. Of _surprise._ The saiyan prince was taken aback that Gohan didn't already know, and that he was the one who would have to break the news to him. The anger and tension had drained from Vegeta's eyes, and now he was looking the boy up and down as if considering his words...

' _Oh, no...'_ Gohan thought with a gulp. There was a word on his mind that his mother would have scolded him for even thinking, but it was rather suiting of the situation so he just couldn't help it. As he took a step back, not wanting to even hear what Vegeta had to say, the boy shook his head. " _Fuck_..."

.

The sun was high in the sky by the time the door swung open. Bulma had been trying to decide if she should just pack everything up and head back to West City on her own, after having spent the majority of the morning suffering between crying spells and waves of stress induced nausea. And when she heard the clatter that indicated that someone was home, she was beside herself with joy. The Bluehead was so ecstatic that she jumped from the couch where she'd been sitting, leaping to greet her companions in a cheerful celebration that they had survived. She bolted across the living room and to the foyer, throwing herself at Vegeta and slamming into his form as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. "You're okay!"

He had been standing still the entire time, watching with not even a hint of amusement as she'd moved. And when she fell into him he didn't utter a sound – he didn't even let out a breath of recoil from the force. His arms did not reach out to steady her, his eyes not moving down to give her a look. Vegeta simply stared straight ahead, scowling silently as she fawned over him. This was a stark contrast to how concerned he'd been with her they last time they'd been together, and Bulma uneasily pushed herself from him, stumbling a few steps back.

"Oh - I! I'm just so happy you're both okay!" She tried again, looking down to see that Gohan appeared to be just as grim as the saiyan prince did. Neither of the two responded, and the Bluehead shifted her weight uncomfortably. Despite knowing what had happened to Piccolo, she was still excited to learn that these two had not suffered the same fate. But now she was quickly coming down from that high, and her glee was now transitioning to dread. There was clearly a giant elephant in the room - one that she was sure they didn't know she was even aware of.

Moving back to the couch to give them some space, Bulma tried to keep a calm composure in order to compensate for how animated she'd been just a few seconds earlier. And now that she was getting a proper look at them, both boys appeared as if they'd been thrown from a train while simultaneously wrestling with a winged dinosaur. Vegeta's clothes were in shreds. His entire chest was on display, with no sign that he'd ever been wearing a shirt to begin with. His pants had been dissipated into something that resembled boxers instead, and it was impressive that somehow the pelvic area of his clothes had managed to stay intact at all. There was muddy muck caked on the prince's skin, but he actually looked rather radiant despite everything. Surely he'd used one of the senzu beans... That _had_ to be it.

It was actually Gohan that appeared far more beaten and bruised, and he looked as if he would never smile again. "Do you..." She stuttered dumbly, fishing for something to break the silence." A-are you guys hungry?"

"I don't know." Gohan mumbled. Much like Vegeta, he was avoiding any threat of eye contact with her. But instead of staring straight ahead into an unseen abyss like the saiyan prince was, his focus was locked on his own two feet.

"Oh." The Bluehead trailed. "Then..."

"We don't want anything, Woman! Would you just shut up?!" Vegeta suddenly erupted. "We've only been here for two short minutes, and you're already pestering for information! God - just leave us alone! Let us breathe, damnit!" And then he stormed for the bathroom, muddy boots leaving a trail where he clomped.

Now Gohan was standing alone in the entryway as a new silence fell over the two that were left in the room. Bulma's mouth had dropped open as Vegeta had yelled at her. Even the front door was left wide open, as the boy's chest began to twitch, his head lowering between his shoulders.

An indicator of the shower sounded, as water began running through the pipes in the walls. And at that precise moment, Bulma also heard as the water began to run from the child's eyes as well. He choked through a failed attempt at stifling a sniffle, and his shoulders began to convulse even more visibly than they already were.

Gulping down the indignance that came from being spoken to in such a way, the Bluehead pushed herself from the couch. She was trying not to move too suddenly as she went for the boy. When she got to him Bulma pulled the front door shut before turning to him. He was still shielding his face from her view, a hand to his eyes in effort to hide his tears. "Gohan..." She put a gentle palm to the top of his head.

Back when they were still by the lake and he had seen the look on his remaining mentor's face, the boy had told Vegeta not to even explain what had happened to Piccolo. He didn't want to risk having an emotional reaction in front of the saiyan prince. Their flight back had been in silence, though the boy was internally struggling to keep himself together. Gohan had been doing all he could to keep from crying in front of his Vegeta, not wanting to be seen as weak or incapable of adapting. But now, with just the feel of Bulma's tender touch on his hair, he was practically screaming as he let it all out.

It was an ear shattering sob that left his throat aching, and as soon as he caught his breath he did it again.

And then he turned to her. This was when she saw for the first time that one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut, tears glistening down his puffy cheeks. "He's gone!" Gohan squawked. In a swift movement his arms were wrapped around her waist, burying his face in the cloth on her belly. "It's all my fault! And now he's gone! He's really, really gone, and it's all because of _me!_ "

"Gohan..." Her hands moved to his shoulders, and his body went limp against her own. Kami - the boy was more muscle than she realized! She could hardly support his weight as he leaned on her, and Bulma carefully slid the two down to the floor.

"Oh, Gohan..." She was sighing, unable to find any other words that would be even close to appropriate. "Gohan... _Oh, Gohan..."_

.

The saiyan prince did not return after he finished bathing. The Bluehead had been in the kitchen with Gohan, and she'd listened as Vegeta's footsteps moved straight from the bathroom and to the front door. The Bluehead wasn't too terribly surprised that he had opted to slip away instead of speaking to her. It would definitely take a long time for him to calm after this last defeat, that was to be certain. But still...

… This latest battle was something they would all need to have a conversation about at some point, and the sooner they got it over with, the better. She wished Vegeta would at least give her an opportunity to say something to him. She wished that he would _at least_ be willing to look her way, instead of choosing now to lash out at her and then shut himself away.

And Gohan? The boy had been practically inconsolable since he had broken down in the entryway, but Bulma had managed to finally get him to stop crying. He now sat at the table, eying her glumly through his swollen face as she made her way to him with a couple of cups of herbal tea. He was still refusing to eat, and Bulma was trying to keep from pushing him so hard that he got overwhelmed. "Gohan," She took a seat beside him. "I know a lot has happened today, but I want you to remember that we _will_ fix this."

"I know..." He took his cup from her with a shrug. "But..."

"Did Vegeta say anything to you about the dragon balls?"

"No... The only thing he said to me was _'we need to go back'_."

"Okay. That's what I thought." Bulma put her hand over the boy's. The act made him visibly uncomfortable, but he didn't pull away. She smiled, trying to do anything she could that she thought might be soothing. "I need to have a talk with him later. Listen - please try to remember the fact that this is going to be fixed, okay? My Dad and I were working on a spaceship before everything started. We'll go get it, and we can use it to travel to Namek. It's going to be comfortable and cozy, too, okay? The ship is just like this house, except there's actually two bedrooms. You'll have your own place to sleep, and in a few months we'll have everything sorted out."

The boy actually cracked a small grin. "I didn't know you had a spaceship, Miss Bulma."

"I do, back at home. My house got destroyed by the Androids, but we were keeping the ship capsulated when it wasn't being worked on. So I know it's okay. We'll go get it, I'll run tests to make sure it's safe, perform any necessary adjustments, and then we'll be on our way. You and I will wish our parents and Piccolo back, and then we'll wish the Androids away. Everything will be just fine. You wait and see."

Knowing fully well that any effort to cheer the child would be futile, Bulma hadn't expected Gohan's face to light up as brightly as it did. "You aren't just saying this to make me feel better?" He asked. "Do you promise?"

"Of course! What would the point be in me giving you false hope?"

An even wider smile spread across his face, and Gohan exhaled one residual sniffle. "Miss Bulma?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I actually _am_ a little hungry... That is - if you don't mind cook-"

"Of course not!" The Bluehead was already making a dash for the pantry. "Oh, I'm just so relieved that you're okay!"

.

What had started out as a mixture of worry and relief had slowly churned into a simmering anger for the Bluehead as the day went by. She had spent her time with Gohan, and she had watched him as he transitioned between hopefulness, grief, and then back to cautious optimism again. She'd tried her best to offer support, which he was receptive to at certain times more than others. And he had eventually told her he wanted to brood in the gravity room by himself, and had ultimately left the Bluehead on her own inside the dark capsule house… Yet again.

It was night, and the entire day had gone by without Vegeta making his return. And when she realized this, it only made her mad.

She knew he was likely off somewhere safe - either blowing off his steam with some unusually tough training regimen, or pensively meditating on everything that had happened like he had done in the sewer.

' _Either way,'_ Bulma thought. _'How dare he?'_

How _dare_ he ignore any type of reason she tried to speak to him, insult her so arrogantly when she tried to collect the dragon balls without him, predictably fail with his assault on the Androids, have the gall to yell at Bulma as soon as he got home when all she did was express her relief, and _then_ refuse to speak to her for the rest of the day?! He didn't even yet _know_ that the dragon balls were now useless, thanks to himself and Piccolo, and he was already throwing a temper tantrum!

 _She_ had been the one who warned _him,_ and had just lived through one of the worst nights of her life. She was the one who should be acting out! She should be the one ignoring _HIM!_

Sometimes Bulma wondered if Vegeta could somehow sense when she was thinking about him. He just always had a way of showing up right when she felt she might explode. This instance was no exception because, as if on cue, the front door swung open and Vegeta came clomping in.

"There you are!" Bulma stood, but the saiyan didn't so much as look her way. Much like he had done earlier that day, he was choosing to focus on an interesting speck of the wall rather than make eye contact with the Bluehead that was so ready to discuss everything with him. "Vegeta?"

He sighed loudly, striding through the living room and towards the hall. And then, without a word, he closed himself away in the bedroom. Bulma listened to the door slamming shut, and she furrowed her eyebrows.

THAT was IT!

"You spoiled little-" She grumbled, balling her small hands into fists as she began to storm after him. Bulma was planning to throw that door open and start yelling at him. It was all prepared in her quick-witted mind, the lecture on how HE was the irresponsible and stupid one, and how he had acted so selfishly and didn't even care of the costs. She was going to scream, point her fingers, demand an acknowledgement that he'd been wrong, and demand an apology for being so difficult with her during the days leading up to this.

But when the time came for such a speech, and she had stalked into the bedroom, she found that she just couldn't do it. Standing in the center of the room, Bulma was getting a good look at Vegeta for the first time. And now she was taking in just how torn he appeared…

… The saiyan was sitting with his back reclined against the headboard. Considerably cleaner from the earlier shower he'd taken, Vegeta was clad only in a pair of boxers that Bulma had bought for him weeks earlier. He had his arms crossed over his toned chest, his face flexed into a pitiful grimace as he glared towards the foot of the bed. He looked as if he were wrestling with the same emotions that Gohan had been all day, and his jaw was clenched as his lower lip stuck out in a rather expressive pout.

Pitiful, _indeed_.

Shocked at how shattered he appeared, the Bluehead felt she owed him the dignity of dropping her gaze as she tiptoed to the bed. Wordlessly she crawled on the mattress to take a seat beside him. When her shoulders touched his own, Vegeta sighed in defeat.

"We need to talk about what happened." Bulma said softly. "There's no point in putting it off."

"I know." He muttered.

Kami, his tone was just as pathetic as his appearance. Yet there was an underlying hint of chaos in it - as if he might crack and explode into a fit of rage as any moment. As if, given the right trigger, this entire room might go up in flames. He was a fully grown adult who was rather experienced when it came to death and loss, as unfortunate as it was. And he had spent all day processing what had happened, and yet he was still this upset. Bulma knew Piccolo had died, but she couldn't help but wonder. In comparison to anything previous, had this last battle really been so substantially worse?

"Vegeta..." She slid her hand to his own, grazing his skin with her fingertips. He let out another sigh at this, but this one was different than the last. It was much less reluctant - and far more relaxed.

And then, the next thing she knew, the Bluehead was on top of him.

The saiyan prince had finally moved, and Bulma gasped as he pulled her onto his lap. She was seated on her knees, resting her chest against his own. The saiyan's fingers were on her hips, curling tightly into her skin. Vegeta was still resisting eye contact, and instead was scowling at a certain spot on the center of her neck.

' _Well.'_ Bulma thought. At _least_ he was looking at _a_ part of her body - even if it wasn't her face. That was progress, wasn't it?

But there was a look of hate in his eyes - a deep pool of disdain that Bulma didn't recognize. He'd never had this expression before when looking at _her –_ but, then again, he seemed to be looking _through_ her rather than _at_ her. He might not even be registering her presence at all, with how faraway his pupils were. Vegeta's expression was so strained that he seemed as if he might start throwing things at any minute, his lip twitching. The Bluehead held her breath, waiting anxiously to hear what he was about to confess.

But no words came, as his eyes found a new spot of her collar bone to glare at instead.

Kami, it didn't take any explanation for her to understand the turmoil that must be welling inside. And it was now obvious that he not only _didn't_ want to have the conversation, but he didn't know what to even say. He knew more than she did how wrong he had been, and it was killing him… She could see it.

Bulma put her hands to the top of his head, her fingers penetrating the thick of his hair and nails pressing into his scalp. Tracing them along his skin, she sighed as she continuing peering into the saiyan's unstable irises. His brows were furrowed, yet his eyes widened as she touched him. And the Bluehead was only able to rub him for only a couple of seconds before his hand reached up to push hers away. Bulma paused, raising an eyebrow when he _still_ refused eye contact. "Do you want me to just leave you alone?" She asked, even though he had been the one to pull her onto his lap. "Am I bothering you _that_ much?"

And then, in the next moment, his lips were on hers.

It happened so quickly that she hadn't seen it coming, and a raspy breath instinctively released through her nostrils. His arm had already wrapped its way around her waist, and he was pressing his mouth so tightly against her that her jaw was aching from the force.

And his tongue - his tongue was _already_ exploring her mouth! It was so swift, and so intense, and Bulma's nerves were heating so suddenly that it was almost unpleasant. Vegeta had closed his eyes as his hand began to run down her front, but his tense posture was anything but relaxed as he worked.

His arm was still around her waist, and it was so tight that the Bluehead couldn't have moved if she tried. Not that she wanted to - for her mind was finally catching up with her body, and she was starting to ease into his hold. She muffled a gasp into his mouth, putting her hands to his head for better leverage as he sucked her lower lip.

Vegeta was acting just as quickly as he had the first time they'd had sex. He was allotting hardly any time for foreplay or appreciation, which was something she'd grown accustomed to with their more recent encounters. His hand had already slipped up her shirt, and he was admiring one of her nipples between two of his calloused fingers while he massaged her breast. It seemed that he had also forgotten all about the tenderness she had demanded and required of him, his actions so rough that they left her with the sensation that she might be aching in the morning.

And yet it wasn't enough to turn her away, because all she was able to concentrate on was him.

The way it felt to be so close against him as she sat on his lap. How right it was to have his face in her hands, the way his fingers were pulsing against her chest and starting to trickle down towards her stomach as she gasped with anticipation. Just 15 hours earlier she had been hyperventilating in a dark living room, terrified at the possibility that this man had gotten himself killed. Wondering if she might feel alone for the rest of her life. And now he was alive and well, they were together again, and he was going at her as if she was the only thing he needed in order to survive.

His hands - one on her hip, and the other on her rear - were working together to gyrate her body against Vegeta's growing erection. It was amazing how effortlessly he was handling her - she couldn't even feel the force of gravity as he supported all of her weight.

" _Ah!"_ She hissed when he pushed his hips up to grind himself into her groin. There were only a few thin layers of fabric separating the two of them, and the friction was already leaving her breaths shallow as he worked. She could feel the dampness of anticipation that had already formed and was now seeping through his boxers, could feel her own reaction as her core throbbed with desire. For the first time since they'd started, Vegeta pulled away from the kiss. And he nipped at her jaw precisely when he grabbed her crotch. The last time they'd been intimate was when Bulma had to keep reminding the saiyan to stay quiet while she played with him, and now _she_ was the one who choked out a scream when he pushed his finger in, tearing through the fabric, and shooting right into her most sensitive spot.

She only hoped Gohan was still locked away in the gravity room - Bulma was gasping and bucking her hips as he pressed the entire length of his finger into her. And then Vegeta swirled his digit, hitting a spot that momentarily took her vision away and had her moaning yet again.

He wasn't speaking to her, not even groaning in response to the sounds she made. But his breaths were shallow, his hand working with determination, and just when Bulma was about to let out another moan he pulled away.

The Bluehead didn't even have time to react or object, for as soon as his hand was gone, it was being replaced with something even greater. And she had her arms wrapped over Vegeta's shoulders as he pulled her down on his member, gasps escaping her lips as her body adjusted to throbbing his size.

"Veg-" She began, but her attempt at speaking faded away as he began to maneuver her over his body, gripping her hips tightly as he guided her up and down his shaft.

Much like when he had been grinding her against him before, Bluehead wasn't even having to do any work. He was doing it all for her, and he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. The saiyan's eyes were still closed, concentration lining his features. He was finally speaking, and low curses were trailing out from under his breath as he pulsed into her delicate frame.

When the two reached their release, it was almost at the same exact moment. Bulma could feel Vegeta shuddering with her as she came, and he let go of her hips to allow her to fall against his body as she convulsed and moaned. Both now a breathless and sweaty mess, they sat together for several seconds as they came back down to Earth.

Now Vegeta was finally looking her in the eyes, but his mood didn't seem any higher than it had been before they'd started. Not even the afterglow would relax him, it seemed... His forehead was crinkled, the skin around his eyes drooping with exhaustion that he should have been decades too young to be burdened with. As Bulma continued to hold him, staring into his dark orbs, for the first time she got a strikingly clear view of what was looming inside. His eyes acting as a window, she was able to take in the part of his being that he always tried so hard to hide, even from her. She had always seen it within him, but this was the first time he was truly revealing it to her, and her lip started to tremble as she watched.

The hardened and tough mask he always seemed to be hiding behind was now completely gone, and in its place she only saw torment and desperation instead. The isolation from years of biding his time in solitude, the pain at losing everyone he'd felt comradery with, the humiliation and shock of failure, the frustration of incapability... There was no hope or optimism in his world - only an expectation of the absolute worst. Vegeta blinked, and for a moment Bulma thought he might actually start to cry, and she could feel the wetness of tears forming in her own eyes.

But instead Vegeta only sighed, and he leaned forward to rest his face against her shoulder, sinking into her body as he did so. He sighed again, nuzzling his face into her skin, his body softening into her own. He was exhausted, he was torn, and all she could do was run her hands through his hair as he silently composed himself against her flesh.

The two stayed like that for countless minutes, until the saiyan finally moved to pull away. The Bluehead took the hint and returned to a seated position beside him, leaning sideways against his shoulder as she did so.

"Before you came in here..." He muttered deeply, closing his eyes again. As was typical for the saiyan when he was about to confess something, Vegeta seemed to be searching for the right words he wanted to use. The Bluehead waited silently, and then he finally continued. "I've spent my entire day trying to decide what to do. I couldn't even feel. Inside there was nothing. I've been completely numb. And then you came in here... and..."

His words drifted to a silence, and he fell back into his trademark scowl.

"So I... came in here... and knocked some sense into you?" The Bluehead teased. She was only kidding, though. Bulma was pretty sure that she knew exactly what the saiyan meant, and she was simply trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, for Vegeta opened his eyes and the sides of his mouth tightened into a smirk. "You mouthy little-"

But she cut him off when she rested her head against his shoulder. "In my own way, I think I know what you mean."

"What?"

"Well, you know... I think I get it. I mean, I just feel like meeting you was supposed to happen. It was meant to be."

"Oh god..."

"I never felt like I was missing anything before you, and I was genuinely happy. But then you came here, and we met, and now I wonder what life was even like before you. I mean-"

"Woman, stop." Vegeta put his hand on her arm and gave her a light push.

"I mean it! My life has changed so much since I met you, and-"

"YOUR _LIFE_ has changed because your planet is being destroyed by two little shits." The saiyan seemed to be growing angry now. "Your life has changed for the worse, and it's been that way since the first day we spoke. Don't get it twisted. We met during a time of coincidence, and that's all it was."

"You _KNOW_ that isn't what I mean!" Bulma frowned. He always reacted like this when she tried to speak to him in such a way, but it still hurt all the same. "I KNOW that everything around us sucks, but-"

"You need a shower." Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "And you need to remember that you had a perfectly good life before we met. All that has happened since then has been hell. Meeting me has only caused complication. Now stop talking so sentimentally."

"I'm not even saying anything different than what you just said!" The Bluehead's cheeks were reddening. "How come you're allowed to tell me those things, but when I try to return the favor you think it's okay to just cut me off!?"

"Because it's NOT okay." Vegeta gave her a light shove, pressing her towards the edge of the bed. "You are wrong to feel such things about me. I've explained this so many times. Now go bathe."

Completely dejected, Bulma pulled herself off the mattress and marched to the dresser for a clean set of clothes. They'd just had an interesting round of makeup sex, and now he was literally kicking her out of her own room because she had tried to express her admiration for him! It was clear he wanted to be alone again, even after their reunion. How was she supposed to feel about that? Trying to decide if it was even worth it to say something snappy, the Bluehead began to head for the door. Just when she had her hand on the knob he spoke again. "Oh, and Bulma."

"What?" She made sure he saw the scowl on her lips when she replied.

"Make sure you get the water nice and hot."

"Why? What business is it of yours? I'm getting tired of you always telling me what to-"

" _Because_ I will be joining you shortly..." Vegeta was rolling his eyes. "I'm a mess, too."

"Joining me?" Suddenly Bulma didn't feel quite so rejected anymore, though she still raised a hostile brow.

"Of course." He grumbled, kicking his legs off the bed. "I told you to shower. I didn't say I wanted you to leave me alone. Now, off you go."

"Whatever, Vegeta." Bulma put a hand to her hip. This man was so hot one moment, cold the next, and then boiling all over again in the following instant. She didn't know how she didn't get whiplash from all this sporadic behavior. But he had finally stopped with his brooding, and even seemed glad to be with her. Vegeta wasn't going to let their little disagreement ruin the nice moments they'd just shared, and she couldn't help but smile about that. "I'll go get the shower started for _us_... _Whatever_ you say... But after that, we really need to talk about that stunt you and Gohan just pulled with the Androids."

"Whatever." Vegeta echoed, pushing himself up from the bed. He was holding his groin with both hands, an effort to try and contain what he could of his own bodily mess, and Bulma was only just now realizing that he had ripped his boxers off during their fondling. She looked him up and down, studying his figure as he moved. The Bluehead couldn't help but think that something was missing from the picture as he walked towards her. But as he grew closer, it clicked, and she tried to shield her surprise.

_Where was his tail?_

It was gone, and he had made himself so scarce that day that she was only just noticing... But why?

_How?_

He always kept it wrapped so protectively around his waist, so how had the opportunity presented itself for one of those Androids to cut it off? The only thing that made any remote sense was if he perhaps had been in his Oozaru form - she could swear that she vaguely remembered it had been unprotected when she had seen him as an ape...

Had he tried to fight them under his transformation? ...Was _that_ what his plan had been? For some reason she hadn't even considered that approach to be in the realm of possibilities! It seemed rather brilliant in theory, and Bulma was not only stunned that he had done it, but that it had somehow managed to fail.

"Woman!"

Bulma jumped. Vegeta was standing right in front of her now, his face so close to her own. "Snap out of it, Woman! I have no more energy for another go. I know I am a rare sight to behold, but you've seen me naked plenty of times before. Get a hold of yourself."

Despite how sternly he'd spoken, Vegeta had a knowing grin on his face. Bulma suddenly became aware of the fact that her eyes had gone wide, and her mouth had also dropped open. She quickly realized that the saiyan had misconstrued her face as a reaction to his naked body, and he'd assumed she was becoming aroused again. She shut her mouth and shook her head, opening the door and stepping back into the hall as the saiyan followed. "Whatever." She said yet again, slipping into the bathroom. "By the way, have I told you yet that I'm so glad you're okay?"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I posted the last chapter, I had the majority of this drafted and ready to go. I really wanted to get this one up quickly because I didn't want to keep you all waiting. But then life happened. As the legendary saying goes, "it's been real"... In all honesty though, it really has. I wanted to get this posted ASAP because I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for too long, but I had to take a few weeks to let some things settle down in my personal life before I could dedicate the time I and focus I needed to make sure this was just right. Things are still "real" for me, so it might be a few more weeks until I can post the next update. I haven't even started on it yet. In the next chapter we finally get to see Bulma make her long awaited return to Capsule Corp - that's all I can say. ;) Thanks for all your patience and feedback.
> 
> (By the way, even if it is negative feedback, you wouldn't exactly be correct to think I wasn't expecting it!) Vegeta is smart, but he can sure be a fool when he lets his ego control his actions, and sometimes that means paying a heavy price... :) I'm just a story-teller, after all. The characters dictate their own actions, and I'm just here to relay it all.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, and I really hope to be back again soon!


	30. West City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap: After a close encounter with the Androids during a grocery outing, Vegeta decides that he wants to put an end to them before they finish their hunt for the remaining dragon balls. Thinking he has the perfect strategy for defeating the Androids, Vegeta starts working closely with Piccolo and Gohan to train for the inevitable battle. Bulma, who knows exactly how much is at stake if anything goes wrong during the fight, tries her hardest to convince Vegeta to forget about training and finish locating the dragon balls instead. The saiyan is too confident that his plan has no possibility for failure, though, and all of her attempts are in vain.
> 
> The battle ends up coming sooner than anyone anticipated when the Androids happen to come across the capsule house during one of their flights. After leading them away from Bulma and the house, Gohan and Vegeta team together in effort to put a stop to them once and for all. This involves Vegeta taking on his oozaru form, during which he tortures and attempts to crush Seventeen. Things don't go as easily with Eighteen, who mortally injures Piccolo after he comes to Gohan's defense.
> 
> Not only is Piccolo killed during the fight, but Seventeen comes back from his supposed demise to cut off Vegeta's tail. Consequently, Vegeta reverts to his humanoid form before passing out. Mistaking this for his death, the Androids leave with the promise that they'll return to take care of Gohan the next time they get bored.
> 
> Vegeta struggles to come to terms with everything that happened – from his "foolproof" plan going array, to Piccolo's death, and then losing his tail. He attempts to push Gohan and Bulma away during his anguish, but realizes he would rather find comfort from Bulma after she walks into his room in the middle of the night. During this encounter his defenses are so low that she is able to see just how torn up he is inside, and she does all she can to try and comfort him. While holding each other during a round of makeup sex, Vegeta confesses that Bulma was the only thing to take away the numbness he was feeling in the aftermath of everything. She starts to confess her own feelings for him, but he quickly shuts her down. Feeling rejected, Bulma starts to leave for a shower. The saiyan announces that he's going to join her, saying "I didn't say I wanted you to leave me alone."

 

* * *

Half a week later, the three were entering the premises of West City.

Though they had made up the night after the battle that had gone so wrong, Vegeta's behavior had only gotten worse during the following days. Even more sporadic than what she had grown used to, the saiyan was kinder than he'd ever been to Bulma when they were alone at night, but during the day - and especially in front of Gohan - he was so cold that he acted as if she didn't exist at all. Vegeta wouldn't speak to her, let alone even look at her. And, as much as it bothered her at times, Bulma knew exactly why this was.

Because, even when Bulma told Vegeta about the situation with the dragon balls and their need to travel to Namek, he had been surprisingly calm. All he had done was nod his head, and after a moment of silence he told the Bluehead that she was not welcome to attend on the trip. He'd said it so firmly that she didn't bother arguing, and instead she left him alone to brood with his decision. She'd gone the rest of the day without speaking to him, and they did not even share the same room until that night when she crawled into bed.

He never did apologize for his harsh reaction to the news. But when Bulma took her place on the opposite end of the mattress, the saiyan immediately rolled over to close the distance between them. He pulled her into his body as they lay together, so tightly that she could hardly move. And he refused to let her go, even hours later when she tried to explain that her body was growing too warm from embrace.

It had been like this each night since he learned the news. Sometimes, during these hugs, Bulma would complain that she was starting to sweat from the heat of his body under the sheets. But Vegeta would only groan a lazy reply before pulling her in even tighter, as if to assure he that he'd never release her at all. During these embraces Bulma had tried several times to bring up the matter of Namek, but the saiyan would quickly shush the subject away and refuse to speak about it at all.

It was clear that he was grappling with the subject on his own. Perhaps that was why he tried so hard to distance himself from her during the hours that the sun was up. These were likely the hours that he felt most strong. But at night, whether he would admit it or not, he'd lose any ability in maintaining this façade. Whether he said it or not, the way he touched her in the darkness of their sheets communicated the truth that he would not say.

He _needed_ her.

And Bulma, who wanted so hard to be able to push him away and lecture him on behaving so fickle, couldn't bring herself to be so strong. As much as his unstable attitude teased her emotions so painfully, she needed him too… _Kami,_ she never wanted these nights to end.

.

"God, it looks terrible." Bulma was commenting, as the plane flew over the decaying tops of murdered skyscrapers. Gohan was sitting beside the Bluehead in the copilot chair. Meanwhile Vegeta was training by himself in the gravity room, which had been set up in the back of the plane. The boy was peering out the window, his eyes glazed over as he blankly watched the rubble that they were flying over. Streets were cracked, bridges had collapsed. Any building that remained standing had human shaped holes blown into them, and Gohan didn't have to use his imagination to know how they got there. He was looking at the skeletal remains of what had once been a thriving metropolitan oasis, the technological capital of the world. And now there was nothing left but ruins, and it all looked the same as any other city did...

"This used to be _my_ city..." The Bluehead was sighing now. It was hard to take it all in, and yet it was incredibly easy at the same time. This was what she had already seen on the drone she made to try and find her parents weeks earlier. This was what she had imagined in her dreams, and had been telling herself to expect for days. Somehow, seeing it up close and in person took any remaining denial from her, and she was left with only the saddening closure that it was indeed true and horrifyingly real.

"Gohan, will you go tell Vegeta that he needs to secure himself? We'll be landing before too long."

The boy was so glad to have an excuse to pull his eyes away from the decay below that he didn't bother to reply. He ran from his seat, eager to tell the saiyan that it was time to get secured for landing. And, ten minutes later, the wheels of the plane were skidding to a halt on the cracked pavement that marked the street where the Briefs residence once stood…

.

Vegeta was the first to step out of the plane, and he inhaled the scent of charred wood as he took in his surroundings. So much had occurred since the argument that transpired between Vegeta and Bulma so many weeks earlier, when she confronted him about whether or not her parents were living. Things had been so busy after this that the dispute might have been long forgotten - if the entire concept of going back to West City hadn't brought it up again. Bulma seemed distracted enough in her own matters - her ailment, her performance as pilot of the plane, her dedication to Gohan... She hadn't mentioned anything to hint that the argument was on her mind, but it had certainly been on Vegeta's. He was remembering everything she'd said to him - that he was a liar, that she thought she could trust him, that he had given her false hope by insisting that her parents lived. Despite what he had told her of her parents' wellbeing, Bulma had believed them to be deceased. And she likely still did, for there was no reason to assume that she'd suddenly changed her views.

They were now drawing closer to the house, and even before they landed the plane Vegeta could feel the older couple somewhere within the debris. Just as he had known and insisted, Bulma's parents were very much alive and thriving. What he found curious was _how._ How could their life auras be so strong and obvious, yet be wafting out from under the collapsed building? If those weak humans had been crushed under the house as the Androids took it out, then how were they so well? How did they survive at all?

Not only were Mr. and Mrs. Briefs somewhere under the remains of Bulma's once beloved home, but there was another as well. Vegeta had recognized it hours earlier, as they advanced in their flight. The prospect of potentially having an encounter with this third aura was enough to sour his mood, but he tried not to let it consume him. After all, why should he care about any matters of this low-class planet when he was going to very soon leave?

The saiyan had fallen behind, and Bulma was now leading the way as she cautiously trudged towards her childhood home. In the far end of the yard lay the drone she had designed, which she had powered off remotely after deciding she no longer wished to stare at the images of what became of the Briefs residence. There was a lump in her throat as she stepped closer to the wreckage, but she swallowed to ward it away. _'You've been preparing for this, Bulma.'_ She thought to herself. _'Keep a level head. Just stay calm...'_

"Look at it." Gohan observed out loud, stepping over a blackened ply board.

"I know." She shot back, trying to put an end to the conversation before it began. They needed to be straight to the point if she was going to get herself through this. There would be time to have a breakdown later. "The spaceship's capsule should be in the lab. We need to get to the basement, and I guess we'll have to do that by tunneling our way in. Gohan, you can help Vegeta by clearing everything away." She turned from the destruction as she spoke, instead choosing to face the street. She was going to have to emotionally detatch herself from this as much as possible if she was going to be describing such things. She just couldn't look at the heap of materials while speaking. Not right now. Not yet.

"Why don't we just find the tunnel that's already here, Miss Bulma?"

"Huh?" Okay, the Bluehead just had to look up at back like _that._

"Well, they have to have a way to be getting in and out... don't they?" Gohan was looking at the Bluehead as if they were both participating in two different conversations. "Right, Miss Bulma? Wouldn't they?"

"They?"

"She can't sense ki, remember?" Vegeta rolled his eyes. The kid was right, though, so the saiyan left it at that. At that very moment, while the two went back and forth, someone was actively making their way out to greet them. The saiyan could feel as they drew closer, and he looked up just in time to see Yamcha pull himself out from the debris. "Bulma?"

The Bluehead's mouth dropped open, and she took a step back as if she thought the Z-Fighter's figure was an apparition. "Yamcha?"

"B, it's really you!" He exclaimed, before turning back towards the rubble. "It's okay, guys! It _is_ her!"

She couldn't even breathe. _Did this mean._.? And as she watched, some dust lifted from the debris. She heard the sound of movement, and then from the back of the heap rose Mr. Briefs, followed shortly by Mrs. Briefs. Tears were in the Bluehead's eyes before she even saw them. As soon as she realized there were more people coming out from under the house, her hopes rose. She became so hopeful that she was terrified, so utterly frightened that she'd be wrong. And when she saw her parents standing together, their clothes a bit tattered but otherwise looking okay, she sobbed. "MOM!"

She shot like a rocket, racing and stumbling over loose rubble as she desperately made for her family. She'd hoped and wished that a moment like this would come true. She had dreamed of it, even, but never did she really believe this was a possibility. Now she was hyperventilating, and she didn't catch her breath until she was falling into the arms of her father. "DAD!"

"Don't cry, honey..." Mrs. Briefs was saying softly, rubbing a hand against her daughter's shoulder as the Bluehead nuzzled against her old man. And then she turned to fall against her mother, wrapping her arms around her and letting out another sob. "I'm so happy!" She gasped. "You guys are okay! I thought... I mean, I-"

"I'm sorry, dear." Mr. Briefs said, and his voice was cracking as he brushed a palm across the back of his daughter's head. "We really did try to call, but all of the phone lines are out. The signal's been terrible since it happened, too. I think it's all the gunk that's been kicked into the air. Not just here, but everywhere. It's as if the entire world has had a change of climate. The wireless phones just can't get a connection."

"I'm just..." Bulma was beside herself. "Oh, this better not be a dream! I can't... I won't be able to-"

"I'm so glad you're finally back, B." Another hand clapped on her shoulder, and Bulma was too euphoric to push him away. She didn't reciprocate, though. She didn't even acknowledge him, even though she was tolerating the Z-Fighter's touch. Yamcha was squeezing the Bluehead's shoulder, but the situation was far too desperate for her to want to make a scene now. Instead she chose to hug her mother even tighter, and she did not let up until Mrs. Briefs took the initiative to step away. "We really should go inside before anything dangerous happens." She said, before turning towards Gohan and Vegeta.

They were both standing by the side of the property, not having moved since the scene started unfolding. Gohan looked as if he were about to burst into tears, perhaps in yearning for a similar experience with his own mom. And Vegeta had his arms crossed, his jaw tight as he glared at Yamcha from meters away. "Both of you, come on!" Mrs. Briefs called. "Come inside, and we can all visit where it's safe."

Gohan was more excited to do this than Vegeta, who kicked his feet as he dragged behind slowly. Up ahead Mr. and Mrs. Briefs were both holding Bulma in the middle of their bodies, their arms wrapped protectively around her shoulders as the led her around the rubble and towards the back of the lot. This is when the Bluehead saw it - the entryway of clearance that had been dug out from the debris. She could see that it opened directly to the stairway that led to what was the basement, and she grinned. The fact that it could only been seen from a certain angle of the yard made her even happier. "Brilliant!" She breathed as she began to make her way down.

It nearly brought Bulma to tears again to see that the basement was hardly changed from what it had been during better times. The thick stone walls had done their part in absorbing the shock of the house's collapse, effectively protecting everything that had been stowed downstairs. The only real difference was that there were now two cots tucked into one of the corners, along with an assortment of canned foods that had been collected on one of the shelves. "Welcome home, dear." Mr. Briefs said, sensing his daughter's relief that one room had been spared from absolute destruction.

.

The hours flew by quickly as Bulma reacquainted with her parents and Yamcha, listening to what they had been through. Gohan was included in the conversation, with Mrs. Briefs doting over the child and trying to force feed him any random snack she had on hand. The only one who did not join in with the reunion was Vegeta, who sat on one of the cots across the room and merely listened to everything instead.

The story went that Yamcha had been on high alert for the Androids ever since Krillin had encountered them for the first time. Because of this, the two men were not exactly surprised when the Androids made it to West City - although they were caught off guard. The Androids made their presence known just a few streets down from the apartment that both men shared, and unfortunately only one of them survived the ensuing battle.

"It wasn't like we even wanted to fight them. We knew we were screwed, and we were just trying to get away." Yamcha had said. He described, in vague detail, how they were on their way to leave the city when their trail was intercepted by one of the horrendous creatures. It was only by pure chance that she'd targeted Krillin, choosing to take him out first.

The Z-Fighter was longfaced and grim as he told it, explaining that both men had already discussed their plans for any instance in which an encounter with the androids might occur. Understanding that neither of them would be capable of overpowering the fiends, they agreed that if one was injured, the other would go on and try to save themselves. With this he did not bother describing anything more of Krillin's fate, leaving Bulma to wipe her eyes with the implication.

What Mr. and Mrs. Briefs both attested to was the fact that Yamcha had gone straight to their home. Things were happening so fast that news hadn't even had time to cover it, and the older couple were unaware that their city was under attack. The Z-Fighter had been the one to give warning that they needed to flee, but it was Mr. Briefs who had the idea of taking cover in the basement. It was in there that the three huddled together with the lights out, listening to the crashing of the buildings surrounding their house. Holding their breaths in fear that the Androids might hear their presence, they hid together in the dark for hours after the attack was over.

So fearful that the monsters might return, they would have stayed in hiding indefinitely if they could have. But they were on borrowed oxygen, and it was the threat of suffocation that eventually brought them to tunneling their way out. This was when they were able to accumulate a supply of food, and with nowhere else to take shelter, the basement was where they all remained.

"You guys can't keep living like this." Bulma said. " _Especially_ now that we're here, too. Six of us cramped together in this room?"

"I'm okay with being cramped." Yamcha replied, and the way he smiled at the Bluehead made her roll her eyes. "No," She said. "We're going to end up killing each other."

"Right about that." Vegeta muttered from his place, but nobody cared to look up and see that he was glaring at the Z-Fighter once again.

"There isn't enough room, anyway. I need space to work on the ship, and I'm _not_ going to do it up there. What if the Androids come back and I don't have time to capsulize it? We can't risk the spaceship getting destroyed."

"What do you suggest then?" Yamcha asked, his voice curling a little at the rejection. "It's not like we have anywhere to go. You saw the city - they wiped everything out!"

"We _have_ the house that I've been sleeping in. You guys can stay in that! There's enough room in the yard, just set it up out there. If the Androids return, you guys will have to just make it back down here."

"I don't know about that..." Yamcha, who didn't even know that the teenagers _were_ Androids until Bulma had explained it to him, wasn't happy. "I don't feel safe up there."

"Oh, please!" Vegeta shot. "Act like you have _some_ spine!"

"Hey now," Mrs. Briefs interjected. "You can't blame him for being uneasy."

"Yeah, man! And what business is this of yours, anyway?!" Yamcha stood from his position beside the Bluehead, much to her own relief. "I was here first, so I have _way_ more say in this than you!"

"She's right though." Mr. Briefs said, then. "Bulma needs the space to…"

... And then all three of them were lost in a flurry of words, as Bulma and Gohan watched. Vegeta was barking things in support of the Bluehead, Mr. Briefs was also in support of his daughter - though he was speaking with far less contempt than the saiyan. Yamcha was screaming at the aspect of having to give up the basement, and Mrs. Briefs was trying to encourage everyone to stay neutral.

"Oh, GOD! JUST STOP!" Bulma, who was getting tired of watching this, finally howled as she jumped to her feet. This effectively brought everyone to a halt. Her parents and Yamcha both turned to stare at her in awe, meanwhile Vegeta only smirked and crossed his arms. The Bluehead was panting, trying to catch her breath. "Now, this is _my_ house, Yamcha! I'm telling you how we need to utilize our space, and it isn't negotiable! Vegeta and Dad both agree with me. And Mom - I know you do, too, you just don't want to be rude. The capsule house has one bedroom, but it has two couches. My parents will take the bed, and you guys can decide which couch is yours. I am saying I _need_ my basement to work! And _my_ work is more important, since the future of our planet depends on it! You guys are going up to the yard, and that's final!"

"Are you okay, honey?" Mrs. Briefs asked. She was quick to notice how exhausted her daughter was as she yelled.

"I'm fine, I'm just pissed off. And this is exactly _why_ we can't all share this space. One disagreement, and it all goes to hell." With that the Bluehead let herself fall back into her seat, her mouth hanging open as she continued to catch her breath.

"Are you sick?" Mrs. Briefs tried again, taking no time in putting a hand to her forehead.

"I'm fine - just tired." Bulma, who didn't want to share her pregnancy news during circumstances like this, swatted her mother away. "I'll be fine..."

"Oh... are you hungry?"

 _'Yes,'_ Bulma thought, but she still shook her head. "I just need to rest for a bit, and then I want to start on the ship."

With that, the group slowly dissipated to settle into the capsule house. Yamcha refused to leave Bulma alone, stating he couldn't trust Vegeta to be around her. It wasn't until the saiyan physically removed the Z-Fighter by force, with Gohan quietly tagging behind, that Bulma was finally left to take a nap on one of the cots in the corner...

.

It must have been 10 or 11 P.M. when Bulma pushed herself out from under the spaceship, wiping sweat away from her face as she did so. Her father had worked with her for a bit, but she continued tinkering away even after he went off to bed. The Bluehead sighed as she began to stroll towards the idle desk that was seated in the center of the room. She was just about to start unbuttoning her shirt, but then she started to hear footsteps heading down the stairs…

"Bulma," Yamcha breathed when his face became visible from the stairway. "Oh, good! You're still awake."

"Sure am."

"I've been trying to find a good time to talk to you…" The Z-Fighter was now quickly approaching her, making her uncomfortable as the distance was closing in between them. "I wanted to see you… when it was just the two of us - alone."

Bulma, who had already been frowning, now blinked at the Z Fighter. He had known her for years, and he knew just how irritating it was when someone interrupted her when she was trying to work. Of course, he wasn't aware that she had just decided to stop for the night – but still. The fact that he was purposely bothering her now meant that he either didn't care, or that whatever he was about to say was actually important. She doubted it, but she wanted to give him a chance to prove her wrong. Biting the inside of her cheek, she sighed and took a seat at the desk, folding her hands over it to try and look busy. "This better be good, Yamcha."

"Just hear me out, that's all I ask." He walked around the desk so he could be by her side, and then he knelt down so that he could be face level with her. "I've been thinking so much these past few months – about _everything._ And I was so happy to see that you're alive."

He was looking straight into her eyes, which made Bulma even more uncomfortable. She tried to edge away in her chair. "Gee, thanks…"

"Were you happy to see me?" He asked. "Be honest."

"Of course - I'm glad you're alive, too. But I would have also been happy to see Krillin. I wish _everyone_ was okay _."_

"Well, that's a start at least…" Yamcha muttered, but he didn't relent. He leaned closer to her, compensating for the few centimeters of distance she had tried to add between them. "Look, when all of this blows over, I want _us_ to have a second chance. I really mean it this time. I've done so much thinking, and there's been so many times where I thought something might have happened to you… It made me realize, babe. I'm tired of this lifestyle I've been living. I'm tired of the high life. I'm tired of running around, going with any girl I want, and being so irresponsible. I don't just want _any_ girl, Bulma. I want stability, and I want the one girl I've ever actually loved. I want to settle down, and I want _you._ "

"How… _sweet_ …" The Bluehead scoffed, her face twisting as his words sank in. How long had he been planning this conversation, and _that_ was the best thing he could come up with? "You're tired of living the _high life_? So, what does that say about me? Being with me would be your _low?"_

"You know that's not what I meant." Yamcha replied, and he reached out to grab her hand. Bulma was quick to pull away. "No, Yamcha. I'm putting a stop to this _right_ now. You _know_ that isn't going to work for us. You've told me all of that before, and I was stupid enough to believe you the first forty times. I'm not falling for it again."

" _This time_ is different, babe…" Yamcha grabbed Bulma's hand again, and he held it even tighter. "I've never had to face anything like this before. I thought I was going to _die,_ and I thought _you_ were going to die. When your whole mortality is right in front of you, it really changes the way you look at things. And I'm officially done. I don't want to go back to living like that after all of this. Please, just give me a second chance."

"You've _had_ your second chance! _MORE_ than that!" Bulma was trying to pull out of his grip, but he was holding her firmly as she spoke. "Let me go." She growled, her back pressed against the chair for leverage. "Yamcha – stop!"

 _Finally,_ he sighed and released her. Of course, he'd waited until the Bluehead was kicking her feet into the ground and desperately leaning back to try and get away. And Bulma, who had still been trying with all her might to wriggle her hand from his grip, went tumbling backwards as the chair gave out. "Babe!" The Z-Fighter started. "Are you okay?"

"I am _not_ your _babe!"_ Bulma yelled. She had fallen on her back, and was now pushing herself up from the floor. "And you aren't the only one who had to face your own mortality, you know! Sure, earlier I mentioned a few things here and there when I was talking to my parents, but you never even asked what _I've_ been through these last few months! You have _no_ idea what I've had to deal with! Our relationship has been dead for a long time by now, and it's going to stay that way!"

"I haven't had the _chance_ to ask." Yamcha pressed. He wasn't going to let this go so easily. "I was _going_ to ask… But I never had a chance."

"Oh, _please!_ If you actually cared then you would have started our conversation with that, instead of _this!"_

" _Please…_ Bulma." Was he actually _whining?_ "You gotta hear me out… Don't you miss _us?"_

"Not anymore. I haven't missed us for a _long time_ and you _know_ that." The Bluehead's face was now red with the anger she was attempting to suppress. "Look, I care about you, and I'm glad you're okay. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But that doesn't mean I trust you, and that doesn't mean I want anything other than _amicability_. We were young when we got together. I was your first girlfriend, you realized you wanted a taste of what else was out there, and you _got_ it. How many breaks did we take? How many times did we decide to end things, just to get back together again and repeat the cycle? We _aren't_ meant to be, and that's that. Stop trying to convince yourself you feel something that isn't there."

Yamcha's face had completely dropped, and he was staring as she pulled her chair off the floor and settled it back on its legs. She was huffing, her face even redder than the Z-Fighter's, and she plopped herself down in the seat again before turning to glare at him. He blinked dumbly in response as he looked her up and down. This wasn't the first time he noticed how breathless she would get, and he wondered what that was all about. She seemed to get winded by _anything_. Was she falling out of shape or something? He decided he would have to ask her about that later, but for now he needed to stay focused on his current goal. He looked her body over once more before settling back on her eyes before opening his mouth again. "You don't mean that. I know you don't really mean what you're saying."

"Are you serious?" A deep voice scoffed, and it was so sudden. Yamcha jumped before swinging around to see Vegeta standing at the other end of the room. The saiyan was leaning against a shelf that had a bunch of dead computers stored on it, and he was watching the two with marked disapproval as he sneered. "I can't tell if you're stubborn, or just a fucking idiot?"

"I forgot you were here!" Bulma gasped, making it clear that Yamcha wasn't the only one surprised by Vegeta's presence. "Holy hell, Veggie, you scared me!"

 _"Veggie?"_ Yamcha's frown deepened.

"Yes, that's what she called me. Is there a problem?" The saiyan pushed himself away from the shelf, starting to walk towards the two. He slowly cracked his knuckles as he went, an act that only added to the already building tension in the room.

Licking his lips nervously, Yamcha looked back to Bulma. He eyed her, almost as if hoping that she'd offer some type of apologetic explanation. But all he saw was a fuming Bulma Briefs, who seemed to be progressively growing calmer as Vegeta drew closer towards them.

_Calmer?_

And then it clicked.

And he took a step away.

"You two… Bulma… _Him?_ "

"Don't you start." She snapped, putting a hand on her hip. She knew exactly what was coming. Yamcha was going to start yelling, and he was going start listing all of the reasons why the concept of dating Vegeta was insanity. She expected him to go off on a rant on why _he_ was the better candidate, and so she was surprised when all she heard was a sigh instead.

"Wow, man. Just… _wow."_ Yamcha ran a heavy hand through his dark hair. "Alright, then. I guess I'll just leave you both alone."

" _That_ would be nice." The Bluehead narrowed her eyes. By now Vegeta had made his way to her side. Looking like an annoying body guard, he was staring at Yamcha and watching to observe that he would actually leave. The Z-Fighter didn't say anything more. He simply shook his head as he turned away, and within a few seconds he had gone up the stairs.

Bulma watched him go, and she didn't address the saiyan until she was sure that they were finally alone. "I really forgot you were here, you know. That scared the crap out of me!"

"Don't be vulgar, Woman."

The saiyan began to stroll across the room, making his way for the two cots. "Come to bed."

She had no care to argue, and the Bluehead carefully slipped out of her sweaty clothes as she complied. She crawled into the cot that was closest to the wall, and she watched as Vegeta slid his bed to be aligned up with her own. He then rearranged the blanket so that it would cover both of them before turning off the light.

In the darkness Bulma took a deep breath as Vegeta crawled into bed and reached for her body. As he did every night, the saiyan wrapped his arms around her figure and pulled her into his chest as he spooned her body. He didn't speak a word, his lips resting just behind her ear as he breathed deeply against her skin.

"It took you long enough to step in." She whispered, adjusting herself to a more comfortable position against. " _That_ was terrible."

"I wanted to see how you'd handle him." He replied, his voice deep in his relaxation. "I need to know you'll be able to fend for yourself once I am gone."

"So, you're still planning to leave me behind."

He gulped before responding. "You know you need to stay."

"I don't." She replied, happy that he couldn't see the distraught expression that was spreading across her face. Her heart was sinking now with desperation – the same way that it did each time the subject was brought up. "Vegeta, I _want_ to go."

"You are far safer in this bunker than you would be out _there._ " He replied. He sounded calm – or, at least, Bulma could tell that he was trying to. But there was something in the back of his throat, and she could hear how much strain it took to try to hold it back. "It is my fault that the trip to Namek must even be made, and I will not have you tagging along and risking your life."

" _My life_ isn't guaranteed if I stay here, though!" She was trying not to lose grip, but this was something she couldn't control. After such a long day that had been filled with so many emotional twists, it had been such a relief to climb into bed with the saiyan prince. Their time together in the safety of the dark was something she looked forward to everyday. The thought that she might not get to have this anymore was nothing less than panic inducing.

"You need to eat more." The saiyan muttered, his way changing the subject. "You haven't eaten all day."

"I need to work."

"You need to eat."

"The sooner I finish this ship, the sooner-"

"Woman." Vegeta's whisper was firm. His palm was slowly sliding down from her ribs, the rough callouses bringing goosebumps to her skin as it moved. "You are not in the same condition you were when you built the gravity machine." His hand stopped on her stomach, and he pressed it into her belly. Bulma could feel a warmth on his fingertips, and she wondered for a moment if she was imagining things. She had noticed this sensation in his touch only a couple of times before, and the last incident had been during one of her breathing spells after an argument over Gohan's training. He had taken her hand while she panted on the couch, and she could swear that his hold had helped her in catching her breath. "I like it when you touch me like that," She whispered.

"Just go to sleep. You need to rest. And tomorrow, you will eat." His hand was even more hot – and she _knew_ she wasn't just imagining this now. It was as if a surge of warmth was flowing into her just from his hand, and she pictured herself laying in a warm bathtub. Her muscles felt as if they were becoming revitalized, her groggy head clearing from its fog. She knew that what she was feeling was real, but was this all in her mind? Did she care about Vegeta _so much_ that his hold could do this to her? Kami, even her anxieties about being left alone were fading away!

Bulma put her hand on top of his, holding it in place as she smiled. She knew that they only had a short amount of time left, and she was going to appreciate every second she could. "I'll see if my mom will make us all a big breakfast tomorrow." She whispered. Images of hot springs were rising in her head, her dreams taking form even as she spoke.

"Very good." Vegeta breathed his reply, and she felt as he lips pecked a kiss on the back of her neck. "It's crucial that you allot time to take care of yourself, or else that child in you will suck you dry."

"Will not." She breathed. His hand was still firmly palming her belly, and the warmth radiating from it was now tingling down to her toes.

"Just go to sleep, Woman." Vegeta sounded as if he were now half awake, himself. "We both need the rest…"

"Okay, but just... _Please_ don't leave me, Veggie…" Bulma sighed, and this was the last thing she said before she drifted away…

The saiyan bit his lip at her words, and he pecked another light kiss on the back of her neck. He wasn't sure if she was even aware, since she was always practically asleep whenever it happened. But she'd been saying the exact same thing to him every night since he'd told her she wasn't permitted to go to Namek. Just as she was drifting away to her dreams, she'd make one last plea for him not to leave her behind. As if she were terrified that he would be gone when she awoke. As if he would leave her in the middle of the night.

The fact that this was always her last thought before falling into slumber was a burden on his conscious, but this was something he'd never let her know. He knew that she wanted to go with, but it just wasn't right. Even after all the stories he'd shared with her during their long nights together, there was no way that the Bluehead could possibly comprehend what types of horrors awaited if she was unlucky enough to stumble across the wrong individuals while in space. And the likelihood of that happening was too high to risk.

There was a bleak future with staying on Earth, but it was still the lesser of two evils. If any thing bad happened to her, she was far better off at facing such fate on Earth than she would ever be in Frieza's hands. Vegeta knew that he would never be able to forgive himself if she ever had to face Frieza. He knew he'd go mad if her last moments living were in that lizard's hands. The saiyan knew he had to keep her as far away from Frieza as possible, and to do that he had to leave her behind. She just didn't understand – she _couldn't –_ but this was how things needed to be. They were on borrowed time with one another, but if they were ever going to get the dragon balls, then separating was the only chance they had.

The saiyan pressed his hand even tighter into Bulma's stomach, which seemed to be growing softer by the day. He placed another kiss on the back of her shoulder. And, as he did each night, he savored the smell of her silky flesh. "Goodnight, Bulma." He whispered as he nuzzled his face into her skin.

He was doing all he could to memorize these moments with her - for she was only living creature that he had.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: In case you missed it, two new chapters to The 7 Year Gap were added in the last week! :)
> 
> AN 2: Also, I now have a tumblr. I made this in order to communicate during times that I am unable to post new chapters to my stories. So, if there ever comes a time where a story update is overdue and you start to wonder if I've gone away forever, be sure to check my Tumblr. I'll likely have posted an explanation to my absence. I have the same username on there, surelysaiyangood. :)


	31. Scheming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but it's actually a chunk taken from a larger piece I've been working on. The next chapter will be much longer, but it was getting to the point that I decided it was best to split it into two. There is one scene in particular that I have been struggling to write for weeks, and I didn't want it to delay me from posting an update any more. As soon as that scene is smoothed out, you'll be seeing another update. :) Thanks for being patient with me!

* * *

Just as she had done when she'd been working on the Gravity Room, Bulma completely threw herself into her work on that spaceship. This time, however, she had the help of her father by her side. She had listened to the saiyan's requests about taking better care of herself, and Bulma made sure to allot three breaks each day in order to eat. After her meals, though, she was always quick to scamper back down and continue her work. For days the Bluehead and her father stayed huddled downstairs together, slaving tirelessly until nighttime fell and Dr. Briefs retreated back to the Capsule house. Even when left her alone, it was routine for Bulma to continue working until it got so late that Vegeta would quite literally drag her to bed.

In the meantime, what more did Vegeta have to do other than train? While the Bluehead and her Dad worked so hard to get the spaceship up and running, the saiyan and Gohan would spend hours working together in the Gravity Room. Vegeta had expected the boy to be turned away from fighting altogether in the wake of Piccolo's death, and he had been pleasantly surprised to discover that Gohan had the complete opposite reaction of that.

"Life is loss, boy. You must take the darkness life has dealt, and use it for power. _THAT_ is what will keep you motivated during the madness." Vegeta had told the boy this shortly after Piccolo's defeat. "What you will accomplish is never going to be despite your obstacles, boy. It'll be _in spite_ of them."

Those words resonated with him. It was so pessimistic, and Gohan had never quite heard anything like it. Yet he found this advice to be surprisingly comforting as it sank in, and he took Vegeta's words to heart. Was that how his mentor had grown so calculated and calm during his battles? "I want to get better." He'd told the saiyan prince. "Someday I'll get to see Mr. Piccolo again, and I'll make sure he's proud."

"The future is never set in stone." Vegeta had replied, not wanting the boy to harbor false hope that their plans would go perfectly well. "Our trail may be intercepted during our trip. We may come face to face with rivals just as repulsive as the Androids, if not worse. Something can easily go wrong, and you must expect that, in order to minimize the element of surprise. You will have to accept that you might never see Piccolo again, and yet you'll be willing to work as if it's a sure thing."

"I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen!" Gohan was angry when he spoke now. "I'm _going_ to see Mr. Piccolo! I'm going to wish him back to life so I can apologize! I owe it to him! I'm going to make him proud!"

"Very well." Vegeta wasn't fond of the boy's optimism, and yet he liked his enthusiasm. "… Then power up to super, boy. And give me all you've got…"

And that was how the two interacted during their stay on the Capsule Corp property. Vegeta told Gohan that the trip into space would be absolutely horrific, in as much detail as he could, in order to see if the boy could be deterred. And yet Gohan, still regarding the advice that Vegeta had given him, only took such tales as motivation to push himself even harder. In his eyes, the idea of finding the dragon balls and wishing his family and friends back to life was his only remaining purpose. Despite how much Vegeta warned him of the terrible possibilities, Gohan was determined that he'd find a way out of any dire situation. He would just _have_ to, for this trip to Namek was his only remaining hope to return to a normal life.

.

Four days had gone by since the spaceship project had been under way, and Bulma was already miserable with fatigue. Waking up at 6 A.M. sharp each morning after working until well after midnight, the long hours were getting to the Bluehead, even though she was being sure to sufficiently eat. At that moment her watch was vibrating, and she put her wrench down at the feel. It was an alarm reminder telling her that it was time to eat, and she nodded before wiping sweat away from her hair line. There had a been a few occasions where she'd ignored the alert on her watch and continued with the spaceship instead, and Vegeta had always been quick to march downstairs and rip her away. Even at that moment, Bulma could hear his words echoing in her head – _"We had an agreement!_ " He'd always snap, just before grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her back. _"You must fuel your damned body, Woman! Why must you be so difficult!?"_

"Go on without me." Dr. Briefs announced, noticing the look on his daughter's face. "I'm not ready to go on break. I want to resolve this glitch first."

"I can wait," The Bluehead offered. "I have a few things I can finish up, too."

"No, don't. I don't _need_ your friend coming down here and causing a disruption again." He sounded annoyed as he spoke, but the scientist looked up and smiled at his daughter nevertheless. "We wouldn't want _your friend_ to think you're planning to skip a meal…"

"Right." She pursed her lips. Her father was teasing her, but she refused to react. Her hair was down to her shoulder blades now, and Bulma pulled it into a lazy ponytail as she headed upstairs. Outside stood Mrs. Briefs, who was working her way through pinning a fresh basket of laundry to a clothesline. "Oh, is it lunch time already?" The blonde asked when she saw her daughter.

"You know it –or else Vegeta will be after me." The Bluehead joked, rolling her eyes for effect.

"Well, somebody's gotta make sure you take a break every now and then! We all know you won't listen to anyone else!" Mrs. Briefs popped a clothespin in her mouth, staring at the line with concentration as she folded a pair of pants over it. She continued speaking, her voice muffled as she worked. "He sure does care for you, I can see it… What a sweet boy he is… You know, not every boy would care enough to make sure a girl is well fed!"

"Yeah, well…" It was strange, but such words were the opposite of flattering. In fact, they made her uncomfortable. Deep inside, despite the small gestures the saiyan gave that showed he really did care for her, there was an insecurity that had been building steadily with each passing day. No matter what she said or pleaded, Vegeta still insisted on going to space without her, and it left Bulma feeling insecure that there was something about this trip that he was keeping from her… It was hard to consider his feelings towards her when their situation was so distorted – it was hard to think he _cared_. If he cared so damned much, then why was Vegeta so insistent on leaving her behind? Why didn't he act as if he at least _wanted_ her to go? Why was he so stubborn about it all? He wouldn't talk to her about it in the slightest, shooting down any questions she asked about his plans or timeline. It was as if he wanted her to know as little about the trip as possible – and _why_ was that?

"Well, don't wait up for me. I've got lots left to do before I'll be headin' in." Mrs. Briefs turned her back to her daughter, humming happily as she continued hanging the clothes with complete concentration. Bulma wondered how long she had been standing with her thoughts, but apparently it hadn't been long enough to concern her own mother. Biting her lip, the Bluehead continued her trail, briskly passing the Gravity Room on her way…

The capsule house was practically empty, since Gohan and Vegeta hadn't taken a break from training yet. The Bluehead actually thought she was alone when she strolled to the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator, collecting the ingredients she needed in order to prepare a quick sandwich for herself.

It wasn't until she got to the table and set her plate down that she heard a rustle come from the bedroom, and moment later Yamcha stepped into view. Bulma looked up when he walked into the kitchen, and she gave him a friendly smile when he took a seat across from her. "You're not training?" She asked, genuine curiosity at seeing the Z-Fighter looking so bored.

"No. Not now." Yamcha replied awkwardly, pursing his lips at the Bluehead. He'd been struggling with thoughts of his own for months – some of which revolved around the aspect of fighting. In fact, the man was pretty sure he didn't have what it took to be a Z-Fighter, but now wasn't the time to tell Bulma that. So, instead of explaining why he'd been distancing himself from training, he settled on saying "Vegeta has made it clear that I'm not welcome in that G.R."

Well, that wasn't a lie – actually, it was quite true. That man had made it very obvious that Yamcha wasn't welcome during his and Gohan's sparring sessions. But what the Z-Fighter left out was that he wouldn't have wanted to, even if the invitation had been open…

"Well, it's technically _my_ gravity room, since I'm the one who made it." Bulma replied after swallowing down a bite of her food. "If you want to use it, I'll make sure you can."

"I don't know, B…" Yamcha drifted. "I don't need it. I can just train in here..."

Giving a polite smile, the Bluehead returned to taking small bites from her sandwich. She was feeling a bit awkward, herself, considering all that had transpired with Yamcha the last time they'd been _"alone"_ together. And now he was staring at her, looking at if he was wanting to say something, and she could easily imagine what was on his mind…

"Hey. You know, I think this is the first time we've been alone together since reuniting." Yamcha said then. "We can finally have a private conversation."

"You're right…" Bulma wanted to say something before Yamcha had the chance to shift things into an uncomfortable direction. Of course, maybe he wouldn't be quite as bold to do such a thing, now that he knew of her and Vegeta's relationship. But still, she didn't want to take any risks. "Hey," She swallowed. "I've actually been wanting to say something to you."

"Yeah? I'm all ears, B."

"I've been thinking about it… And, well, I don't like to think about it, but I'm pretty sure my parents wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you." She had just finished the last bite of her food, and was now pushing her plate away slowly. "You're the one that came and warned them, and it was because of you that they were able to take shelter before the Androids arrived and destroyed the neighborhood…"

"Hey, yeah… I guess you're right…"

Kami – she was getting emotional just verbalizing her thoughts, and she really hadn't wanted to. Bulma took a deep breath, trying to push the mental image as far away as she could. What mattered most was that her parents were alive and well, and she didn't need to focus on any more what-if's.

"You okay?" The Z-Fighter was asking now, and his voice had gone soft. She knew that she was giving her feelings away with the look on her face. He was reading her like a book, and she had let her defenses down enough for him to do that. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am about that." She continued, and then she forced a smile on her cheeks, looking up at the Z-Fighter to try and prove that she was perfectly fine. "I don't think I've told you yet. I really appreciate that you came to help them… So, thank you."

"Oh, B… Come on, don't be sad." Yamcha was smiling back at her now, but there was a faint hue of a blush creeping into his scarred cheeks. He reached out as if to take her hand, but Bulma did not return the gesture. "You know I'd do anything for them. You guys are the closest thing I have to family… You know that. I'd do anything for them, and I'd do anything for _you_ …"

A creaking sounded when a chair was pulled out from the table, and Bulma jumped. To her right was Vegeta, who was taking a silent seat in the middle of this sentimental conversation. " _Veggie!_ Would you stop doing that?!"

"Doing what?" The saiyan replied, ever so matter-of-factly. He had a scowl on his face, his eyes slowly moving from Bulma to Yamcha, and back to Bulma again.

"I didn't even hear the door open." She explained. "You keep sneaking up on me and scaring the crap out of me!"

"It isn't my fault you can't sense ki." Vegeta commented, still with so much monotone. As if he hadn't noticed anything going on at all, and yet she could tell he'd heard everything from the way he kept looking at her.

"I didn't sense you." Yamcha said, looking more irritated than shocked. "You didn't want to be noticed. _You_ were eavesdropping."

"It isn't my fault you let your guard down." The saiyan growled at the Z-Fighter, before turning back to his Woman. "Gohan will be here any minute. Your mother stopped him outside for some petty chat. He is going to eat as quickly as possible, and then we will continue our training."

"Fine, I'll make him something in the meantime." Pushing herself up from the table, the Bluehead stepped over towards the refrigerator. She was going to make him the same sandwich that she just ate, which was the quickest thing she could think to prepare.

"Could you make me one, too?" Yamcha asked, turning to look at her from over his shoulder. He shot her a wink, despite – or perhaps because of - the fact that Vegeta was sitting there to see. "With an extra piece of bread in the middle?"

"No problem. Do you want one too, Vegeta?" A few seconds passed, and there was no reply. Bulma turned from the counter, raising an eyebrow. "…Vegeta?"

The saiyan was still sitting at the table, his arms folded across his chest. Again, he seemed to be studying Yamcha before he turned to settle his gaze on the Bluehead. His scowl deepened when the two locked eyes, and he raised an irritable brow.

"Vegeta…" The Bluehead hated having to repeat herself so many times. _"Did you want a sandwich or not?"_

"No." He glared, before switching his gaze to Yamcha yet again. "Don't worry about me. Just go ahead and make one for _him."_

Was he actually jealous that she was going to serve Yamcha food? "Whatever…" She sighed, turning back to the counter as she shook her head. Quickly she began throwing the ingredients together, and the entire time neither the saiyan nor the Z-Fighter spoke again. She could feel Vegeta's stare, though, and even when she went back to the table he was still looking at her.

 _What was he thinking?_ He was behaving more pensively than even she was used to. His eyebrows were sunken as she watched the other two in the room, his pupils sparking with some type of silent thought. Bulma scowled at him whenever the two locked eyes, but he didn't bother offering any type of explanation. He only glared, and as soon as Gohan entered the room Vegeta stood up. "I will be waiting." He said to the boy before turning and walking out, not even offering the Bluehead a goodbye as he went.

"Mr. Vegeta?" Gohan called, and the boy was visibly surprised at the saiyan's conduct. Evidently, he hadn't been in as cold of a mood when the two had been training alone. The front door slammed, indicating the saiyan prince's exit, and Gohan turned to the table with wide eyes. "I wonder what that was about."

"He's always like that." Yamcha replied. "Thank God he finally left. What a killjoy!"

"He's not that bad." Gohan shoved the entire sandwich in his mouth with a single bite – just like his father would have done. "I like Mr. Vegeta. Right, Miss Bulma?"

"Right..." She replied, biting her bottom lip. " _Right…"_

.

As with every day, the saiyan's cold demeanor completely evaded as soon as he stepped into the basement for the night. Instead of acting pensive and distant, he was now nothing but engaged and concerned with the Bluehead, and her alone. It seemed he had nothing to occupy himself with other than that Woman, and he always made this well known. Several hours had passed since the incident in the kitchen, and Bulma was sitting on an elevater chair as she tinkered with something in the ship's engine.

The saiyan, upon entering the basement, took a seat on the bed across the room and watched her as she worked, noting the focus in her eyes as she glared at whatever it was she was doing. He gave her a few minutes, and when he got bored of listening to the clinking of her tools, he spoke. "It's time to rest."

"Not yet." She didn't even look up at him. She cursed, the sound of clunking metal as she dropped a wrench into her toolbox and fished something else out instead.

"Get in bed. _**Now.**_ _"_ Vegeta replied.

"Find something to occupy yourself with. I'm not ready."

"Woman." He growled. "Don't be stubborn."

"Don't you _dare_ call me stubborn." She clucked. "You, of _all_ people."

"Oh, so you don't believe you're stubborn? You refuse to pause with your labors, instead working yourself to the point of exhaustion, which ends up impeding the overall progress of your project. What _would_ you call that?"

"Again, look who's talking."

"I know what I can handle, and I'm used to over exertion. Not like _you._ " He glared. "You're in a compromised condition, anyway, and you know it."

"What do _YOU_ care?" She hissed, Vegeta having hit a sensitive spot at reference to their unborn child. It wasn't clear whether she'd finished her task, or if she was taking Vegeta's opinion into more consideration than she wanted to admit. But she slammed the panel to the engine shut, and slowly began to make her way down the elevated chair she'd been seated on. "You're going to leave not too long from now, so it's none of your business what I do."

He grumbled something indistinguishable under his breath, and a second later he was standing right beside her. "I am here _now_ , and while I am with you, you _are_ my business. You need to learn to take care of yourself – a skill you clearly lack."

"I just find it hypocritical that you're being so pigheaded about leaving me behind, and yet you have the audacity to act so hostile when you see me and Yamcha together. Did you think I wouldn't notice your blatant jealousy, or did you just not care?"

He grabbed her wrist and started ushering her towards the bed. "I was listening to what he said to you." The saiyan pushed her down on the mattress, climbing after her.

"And?" She was stiff as he found a spot, laying by her side, and pulled her into his physique. "And..." He muttered as Bulma gave him a push. "I found it interesting."

"What does that even mean?" She hissed, but the saiyan only squeezed her even tighter. He put his hand to her stomach, like he did each night, and suddenly that familiar warmth was upon her. She was irritable and wanting a fight, but something about his touch made her bones themselves feel rejuvenated, and she was losing the enthusiasm she once had of making her grievances known.

"Don't worry about it." He muttered. "Just get some rest…"

"You're doing something to me." Bulma announced, completely sidetracking the discussion. She put a hand to his wrist. "Every night you touch me there, and as soon as you do I get this feeling."

"Don't worry about it." He repeated, which made the Bluehead frown even deeper. "Stop telling me that. What is it you're doing with your hand? Why does it make me feel so... so… So _good?"_

"Don't act so shocked. My hands have always made you feel good." He grinned, and Bulma clapped his arm. "You know what I mean! You're doing something to me, and I know it!"

"Maybe." Vegeta replied, much to the Bluehead's distaste. He had always been such a private man, but his reluctance to elaborate was starting to become insufferable.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but Vegeta cut her off with a kiss. "Stop questioning everything." He said when he pulled away. "I know you're mad at me, but what's been decided will not be changed. You can't go on the trip, and that's in your best interest. Now go to sleep."

It wasn't fair. He was so incredibly frustrating, and yet she was being lulled to dreams, against her own efforts. Bulma wanted to yell, shove him away, and spout that he had no right to touch her when he was so willing to run as soon as he got the chance. That he had no say in how she handled her pregnant body when he obviously had no plans to be a part of the baby's life. And yet she also wanted to melt under the sensation of his touch, to memorize exactly how it felt to be in his arms at that precise moment. And she also wanted to sob - to curl up into fetal position and hug her legs at the prospect of being left in this post-apocalyptic wasteland that had once been her home…

Her instincts were all so conflicted, which left her silent as she stared at the saiyan with lidded eyes. It was clear that he knew she was upset, and still nothing was going to change. Helplessly pissed, Bulma wasn't even aware when her eyes slowly shut, and she drifted to sleep.

 _Damnit,_ she would have thought, if she was awake enough to do such a thing. Another night she had planned to confront the saiyan prince about his scheme, and another night had been wasted by her falling asleep.


	32. Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for over 400 kudos! Ah!!!
> 
> This chapter took me ages to write! This is easily the longest piece I've written (it was even longer, if you want to count the small portion I published as Chapter 31 a few days ago!)
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :)

* * *

 

"Why does it look so lumpy?"

" _Lumpy?_ Vegeta, don't talk about the ship like it's spoiled gravy. That's rude."

"It's extremely lumpy, Woman. I'm calling it the way I see it."

It was nearing midnight, and after two hard weeks of work, Bulma was tiredly standing beside the saiyan as she revealed the finished spaceship to him. She had spent that entire day installing specialized plates to the exterior of the ship, resulting in the vessel looking like a dark grey pickle to the naked eye. The Bluehead wasn't surprised by the saiyan's reaction - especially considering the fact that this was his first time seeing the vehicle with the panels installed. "Those _lumps_ , as you put it, aren't for decoration. They're going to help achieve stealth." She explained. "See? These panels are designed to, when activated, absorb light. This will prevent it from reflecting off the ship's surface, meaning that the ship won't be visible in space. It won't work too well in a place that's lit up like this, where it's standing in front of distinct scenery, because we can still see that our view is being blocked off by an object. So, what we get instead is semi-camouflage. But in space, where it's so dark and the only light that may hit us would be from another ship or distance star, we'll be able to basically achieve invisibility."

Vegeta was studying the spaceship as Bulma spoke, and he turned to blink at her with wide eyes.

"You don't understand?" She sighed.

"Of course I do!" He frowned. "It makes perfect sense! But I want to see it in action. Show me."

"Alright…" Bulma walked to the light switch at the far end of the room, and she didn't give any warning before flipping it to the off position. Consequently the two were now engulfed in absolute darkness, with Vegeta still looking towards where the ship was. He listened, intrigued, as Bulma spoke again. "Now, check it out. Let's pretend that someone senses a power source in your approximate location, and they decided to investigate. They go to where they calculate you to be, and let's say they have headlights of some kind that they're using to view their surroundings with."

A clicking sound was heard as Bulma turned on a flashlight. She began to shine it around the room. The beam first hit the desk, revealing the lamp and papers amid the darkness. She then moved to a wall, illuminating a shelf of battered looking books. Then, as Vegeta watched, the beam moved to where the ship was, but there was only darkness. There wasn't even a sparkle to reflect the flashlight's beam. All he saw was the light continuing into what looked like an empty void, an optical illusion that he was staring into the abyss. "Brilliant." He said, unable to keep the smirk from his lips. "This, combined with disguising my ki, will completely eliminate our trail."

"Right?!" Bulma replied. She sounded a little more cheerful as she flipped the light switch back on, and now he could see that she was smiling proudly at her creation. "Okay, now check out the inside!"

The interior of the ship was more spacious that Vegeta had expected, yet it was still rather small. The main cabin was the larger than the living room of the capsule house, yet the absence of a kitchen and dining area made it feel much more compact. There was simply a small kitchenette cramped into the corner of the room, yet no table or chairs to eat with.

The ship was also equipped with two sleeping quarters, both of which were large enough to have stuffed a double bed in, along with a nightstand, dresser, and desk - but that was about it. Vegeta hadn't realized just how large the capsule house's bedroom was until standing in this ship - nor had he realized just how accustomed he'd become to the luxuries of Earth.

"It needs to be smaller in order to prolong fuel efficiency." Bulma explained, sensing the saiyan's surprise. "To include the gravity simulator in the main room, we had to compromise the weight of the ship elsewhere – so, knowing these rooms would only be used to sleep in, we chose to keep them small."

"There's a gravity simulator?" Vegeta replied, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but there will be. The one you currently use. It will be a tight fit, but you should be able to set it up in the main cabin. To expedite the building process, we decided not to go into the schematics of designing an entirely new gravity simulator. But, we wanted to make sure you had one so that you can continue training during the trip."

"Very well." So monotone and reluctant to show enthusiasm, and so typical of Vegeta. After all of her hard work, Bulma had been hoping for something else. She frowned at him and turned, walking back out into the laboratory. The saiyan followed after, and when they both stepped outside she capsulated the vehicle.

"So, that's it?" Vegeta asked, and he sounded a little uncomfortable now. "The project is complete? It's all ready to go?"

"Yup, ready when you are."

"Hm," The saiyan turned to glance about the room, and Bulma could see it in his demeanor. Having initially been filled with pride as she flaunted the ship, her mood was now dropping. And then he spoke again, after clearing his throat. "Is it equipped for me to leave at sunrise?"

"Yes, it's stocked with groceries and clothes."

The already quiet room was steadily growing more silent with each passing second. Vegeta nodded, staring towards the wall instead of making eye contact with her.

He couldn't even look at her now?

"So... you're leaving in the morning." Bulma commented. It wasn't that she hadn't been expecting him to take off so soon, but it was that she couldn't believe he still was set to go without her. "You're... going... to leave."

"Of course, I am. That was the whole point, wasn't it?"

"But you want to LEAVE _ME_." She continued, and her cheeks were starting to flush. Now Vegeta raised an eyebrow and turned her way, understanding exactly where this conversation was going. He'd expected it, though, for their talks had trailed in the same direction every night. "Don't act so shocked, Woman."

"I can't believe you!" She hissed, turning on her heels and storming to her desk. She slammed the capsule down before spinning back to him. "Even with the invisibility shield, you don't even want to HUMOR the idea of me going!"

"Of course not!" Vegeta spat back. "Was that the reason for designing it, then?! Did you manage to convince yourself that I'd invite you to join along as a reward? Even though I keep telling you, no?!"

"You make it sound so conniving! Of course, I made it because I wanted to help! But I at least thought, with added protection, you'd CONSIDER it! I thought you might want me to go enough to at least THINK about it!"

When she said this, Vegeta broke eye contact again. He turned, dropping his gaze to the floor as if considering her words. His hands balled to fists, his biceps tight as his shoulders shook. For a moment Bulma thought she had gotten through to him, but she realized he was only trying to stop himself from yelling when he finally looked up and spoke again. "You're staying here. That's final."

It was really hitting her now. Despite anything she had tried, even with an invisibility shield that basically guaranteed they'd arrive to Namek without incident, Vegeta still insisted that she stay. Even though she had nothing to look forward to on Earth. Even though she felt safer staying with Vegeta than anywhere else. Even though she was pregnant with his child, and he had once promised her he wouldn't grow to regret their time together. Even though she still felt that he cared when he held her at night, Vegeta clearly didn't. Things were obviously far different than how he'd conveyed… Yet she'd believed him. Now, any remaining bit of denial she'd been holding on to was fading away. "You... bastard."

"What?" He stepped towards her with this, and Bulma stepped back to keep her distance. "You... _PIG_... You _asshole._ You... _JERK!_ You-!"

"Stop." She had her back to a shelf now, and Vegeta was quickly cornering her. Wanting to prove her point, Bulma reached behind to grab something to throw, but only felt large computers instead of something small enough to actually fling. "Get away from me. Get out. Just leave now, since you insist so damned much!"

"What the-?" Vegeta started. She seemed as if she'd done a complete 180 from a few seconds ago. Now, instead of being so pleading and hopeful, she was pissed. What was going through her head...? Why was she acting so shocked?

"You _FUCKER!"_ She snapped, slapping his arm when Vegeta put a hand to her shoulder. "Let go! Get away from me! Get away from me and LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

"Stop it!" He growled, holding her even tighter. She put both hands to his forearm and scratched as hard as she could to try and break his grip, but the saiyan didn't even flinch. "Calm down, Bulma!"

"Don't tell me to CALM DOWN!" She panted, her face red from exertion. "You told me...! You promised me...! You! I TOLD you before we did _anything_ that I didn't want you to regret it and do something like this to me! I KNEW you would, but you TOLD me you weren't going to! And I was stupid enough to believe you! I WAS SO DUMB! Why was I so STUPID?! You fucking told me-!"

Vegeta raised a quizzical brow as she screamed, and suddenly his eyes widened when he realized what she was referring to. Quickly the memory hit him, and he was taken back to a particular moment he'd shared with Bulma. So long ago, back in the capsule house, it was just before they'd slept together for the first time. They were on the couch, and he'd been on top of her after a hot snog. She'd just gotten out of a bath, and he had been so excited to pull her towel off and get a first look at her naked body. Just as his hand reached the top of the fabric, though, she had stopped him. _"I need to know if you really want this."_ She'd said, and she'd explained that didn't want him to blame her if he grew to regret what they did. She didn't want to be _used._

Not only had it impressed him that she had enough foresight to predict such a thing, but he'd also been amazed that it was the last thing he could have seen himself doing.

In fact, regretting such a thing something like that had been completely unthought of. Not with _her…_

He'd promised Bulma that he wasn't going to resent what they shared, and he'd kept that oath. Even two months later Vegeta _still_ didn't regret a thing, but evidently Bulma had come to a different assumption.

She had now finished with her ranting and was staring at him with distraught eyes, studying his expression as he continued holding her shoulder. For a moment Vegeta wondered what type of face he must have been making to render her so speechless, but before he could think too long he began to pull her in.

This time she didn't resist, and she allowed herself to fall into his chest. "Stop it..." He murmured, his tone no longer so hard. "Calm down. You know that's not true..."

"But then... Then..." She was taking in sharp breaths, and he put his hand to the back of her head as she buried her eyes in his shoulder. "Then... How can you... I _... I..."_

He was pulling her, leading her towards the bed. When they reached the mattress, he lowered her so that they were lying beside one another. She had her eyes closed, and he watched the strain on her face. Still looking pissed, it also appeared as if desperation was setting in as well. "Vegeta, I _can't_ stay here. I don't _want_ to. You can't leave me here! What am I supposed to do?!"

" **Live**." The saiyan replied. "Be with your parents. Be with _him_. They'll take care of you."

"Be with _him?_ " Bulma had been trying to collect herself, to keep her voice down, but this was enough to make her struggle all over again. "What - with YAMCHA? You're going to actually suggest that to me, when I can see how jealous he makes you."

"I have seen how he interacts with you and your parents. And I distinctly remember him telling you to run when I first came after the dragon balls. I remember him trying to protect you when we first met..." Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "Even if it is platonic, I know he will do what he can to take care of you and the infant."

"You _know_ you don't even mean that! You're grasping at straws!" Bulma screeched back. Based on what he was saying, Vegeta hadn't just been jealous when he'd discovered her and Yamcha together in the kitchen... He'd also been analyzing them? Determining how their dynamic would be once he was gone? No wonder the saiyan kept startling them when the two were having private conversations - he'd purposely been trying to stay unnoticed until it was convenient for him! This only added to Bulma's mood - now she was starting to feel even more betrayed. He'd really put a lot of thought into this, and he'd still decided to abandon her! "What - so you really want me to believe that you like the idea of me and your future child growing old with him?! If you actually cared, then you'd want to be the one here for us! You want Yamcha to take your place, then?! Even if he means well, you don't actually expect me that crap?! _He_ doesn't stand a chance against the Androids! If they find us, we're all done for! You're grasping at straws, and you know it!"

Vegeta had never heard the phrase _grasping at straws_ , but it didn't take much thought to understand what she meant. And perhaps she was right with that observation, but he would never admit it. This was what needed to happen. The saiyan had made this decision as soon as he knew of the trip, and that was final. She wouldn't be joining him into space, and he was not going to change his mind.

As Bulma studied his face and saw no sign of relent or second guessing, she knew how useless her negotiating truly was. Vegeta was dreadfully stubborn, had always been up until this point, and his mind was thoroughly made. No matter how hard she tried, she was going to wake up in the morning alone, and he would be gone... Perhaps for good.

"Don't look at me like that." Vegeta said then, and Bulma hadn't realized she'd been eying him any differently than she ever did. "Stop it, Bulma. Don't."

"I can't help it..." She replied, and her chin was quivering with how hard it was to get the words out. She was trying desperately to keep from crying, to keep her voice from rising to the pitch that it always did with tears. "I... I'm... I hate you, but I'm going to miss you... and I..."

"Stop it." Vegeta repeated, but this time he put his hand on her cheek. His own voice was softening, the firm edge no longer there. "This is how it needs to be. I can't risk Frieza capturing you. I don't want to feel you like this..."

FEEL?

He'd said FEEL, as if he could actually _feel_ what she was going through. Those words, combined with his touch, had Bulma boiling over. She closed her eyes as hot tears rolled down her face, her skin trembling against the saiyan's hand. "I can't help it." She broke. "I..."

"This is for the best..." Vegeta's hand grew heavier on her face. "Bulma... You know this..."

"No! This isn't RIGHT! I feel like we'll never see each other again, and... I just don't WANT that! How could you?! I can't believe this is so easy for you!"

Kami, Vegeta stopped breathing. Did she not see how angry he was about the situation? He was trying not to show it - he didn't want to give her any ammunition to support her desire to stay with him - but could she really not tell? All of the anxiety and desperation he was sensing from the Bluehead was curling through his veins now, which only added to his pessimism. He could feel it bubbling over, making him just as dreadful as her, and he didn't want it. The saiyan was nostalgic for the days when he could reach out for her ki and feel a warm and comforting bliss, but lately all he got was a dark sense of impending doom. He didn't want that for her, and he didn't want this to be their last encounter before he left. He'd give anything to make her feel better, and yet he knew there was nothing to say...

"See? You aren't denying it!" Bulma was sobbing now. "You know we'll never meet again. You really aren't wanting to come back! You've been planning to move on, you're taking this as the opportunity to do it, and you're just trying to let me down softly!"

"That's not true..."

"If you wanted to return, then-"

"Listen to me!" He rolled on top of her, cutting her off. She was refusing to make eye contact with him though, her face turned to the wall as she continued to sniffle. "Bulma, listen... I cannot promise you anything, so I won't. But I will do ALL in my power to come back. Understand?"

She didn't reply, instead proceeding to tremble as she continued her stare at the wall and tried to pull herself together. Oh, how she hated that he was seeing her cry... How she _hated_ this...

"You know you are with child. In your condition, you are better off here." Vegeta could only tell her this, not wanting to mention how dangerous it would be if Frieza learned that the prince of all saiyan bared a heir or heiress. She didn't need to know about Frieza's torture chamber, or what could be lurking at any moment. She didn't need any more worry. She just needed to be _okay._ "You'll be happier, you'll have more freedom, and you'll be _safer_. You must trust that I know what I am talking about with this. I am not just making excuses."

"I'm not free on Earth, anyway." She shook.

Oh, how Vegeta wished he could stop having to hear her speak with such a morose tone. "Happy? I'll just be stuck in this stupid bunker, counting down the minutes until those Androids finally uncover us. As if _that's_ how I want to spend the last of my days. You think that'll make me HAPPY?!"

They were only going in loops - the saiyan sighed. All he could do was keep repeating his points, and all she would do was repeat hers. Clearly this wasn't working, and she wasn't going to be coming to terms with this any time soon. All he wanted was for her to be less panicked, and to settle her mind about the ordeal. All he wanted was to have this last night with her, and to have something to remember during his trip…

"I don't like this..." Bulma was audibly sobbing now, her chest bouncing as she wailed. She seemed to be lamenting out loud to herself, mumbling and sniffling as she spoke. The tears were coming back at full force, and she was losing all hope to stop them. "God... God... I hate this. How did my life end up like this? How is THIS happening? Why? Why does everything have to be so-"

"Shh..."

She felt fingers on her chin. She tried to resist his tug, but he was too strong and there was no way she could. Vegeta pulled Bulma's face towards his own, forcing her to look at him. He was still on top of her, staring into her eyes, watching so deeply. "Bulma... Stop... Don't."

She was going to respond - to tell him she was trying not to cry, but just couldn't help it. To ask him what he could expect when her outlook was so bleak. To perhaps even become offended again, and insult him for putting her in this state to begin with. To tell him it was all his fault for meeting her, taking her, treating her the way he had, and causing her to develop the feelings she was burdened with. But no words had the chance to leave her mouth, because in an that instant his lips were upon her.

He was kissing her with so much ferocity, and she hadn't seen it coming. Her chin was still quivering with tears as he nipped her, pressed his tongue through her lips, and ran it across her own. Her eyes were still watering as he pulled away so he could brush his mouth across her hairline before finding a place by her ear to nuzzle. Her breaths were still jagged with sniffles as she reached up and held him, his tongue running from the side of her cheek down to her collar bone.

And when he pressed his lips against the arch of her neck, braising his teeth on the sensitive skin, her whimpering finally ceased. Slowly but steadily her melancholy was giving way to what he was doing to her body. He felt so true, so genuine, and Bulma wanted to do all she could to appreciate it… While she still could...

Her hands had been cupping the back of his shoulders, but they were slowly moving down his arms as he continued his affection on her neck. Jolts of electricity were shooting through her limbs as he sucked, causing her lips to part as he worked. Vegeta wasn't moving any further along her body, instead paying such attention to that particular arch at the beginning of her shoulder. Licking and nipping with his teeth as she gasped from the sensation, the Bluehead could already feel a nudge in her thigh as his own body reacted to the exchange.

Just as she was about to let out another gasp, Vegeta pulled away, moving back up to meet her mouth again. This time Bulma reciprocated, pushing herself closer to him and swirling her tongue against his lips. His hands were cupping her face as they embraced, and she could feel his rough thumbs as they wiped away the tears from her skin. He was massaging her, working to dry any residual dampness in her eyes... Comforting her as best as he could.

He felt so sincere. His hands so tender. It was conflicting - she was starting to feel that he really didn't want to leave her after all, despite all the signs and signals she had seen up until this point... Despite how indifferent he had been acting about it all, he almost felt _desperate_ now.

Vegeta had pulled away from her mouth and was now planting pecks against her cheek - again, and again, and again. Frantically kissing her repeatedly, as if he was doing so would convince her to forget about everything and cheer up. And somehow, in spite of herself, it was working. She fought the urge to grin when he buried his face into her shoulder, kissing yet again. Bulma almost playfully told Vegeta to stop, but she wouldn't let the word leave her lips. He was toying with her now, and she was going to let him. Despite the fact that the Bluehead wasn't speaking, the saiyan could tell that she was resisting a laugh as he landed yet another peck on his skin. She did, however, give him a light slap on the back of the head.

"There you go..." He whispered, pulling away to look at her. She still had her mouth pulled into a soft pout, but her eyes spoke enough. He could feel her ki starting to warm, and her irises shimmered with the same lighter mood. She was giving him a knowing look, and he knew his actions were successful... She just didn't want to admit it.

His eyes still locked on her own, the saiyan began to slide his hand down her front. His touch hardly grazed her breasts, though, as he continued down, and she raised a knowing eyebrow as he worked his way across her torso. Her lips were pulling at the ends - she was struggling not to grin - but those slight movements told enough.

And when his hand found the front of her core, his fingers brushing the fabric of her pants teasingly, she bit her lip.

"Do you want me to do this?" He asked huskily, his rough hand sinking under the layers of fabric so that he could caress her bare skin. His calloused palm was sliding across the front of her pelvis, one finger curling to teasingly dip against her silky nether folds. "Do you want me to continue?"

Bulma only responded by unbuttoning her pants to give him better access, lifting her hips off the bed as he began to pull them down. His entire body was starting to sink lower now, his chest rubbing against her stomach as he inched his way further along her flesh. She could feel his breath hitting her skin as he went, traveling so slowly, yet confidently...

 _'Hm.'_ Vegeta thought, noting the goosebumps curling along Bulma's flesh at every centimeter he touched. He'd been planning this for weeks, thinking of this specific night to do it, and the time was actually here. The concept was still so strange to him, and yet he'd enjoyed himself so much when Bulma had been the one inflicting such treatment on him. If he could make her feel half as good as he had, he knew she'd forget about everything completely.

If only temporarily.

When his chin reached the bottom of her hips, Vegeta heard Bulma take in a sharp breath, but she did not exhale. As if she knew what was coming and was bracing herself. As if she was... intrigued.

He wasn't looking up at her face, but was staring at the rest of her body instead. A sweaty shirt covered her torso so stubbornly, an unfortunate pair of panties protecting her womanhood from his view. His head between her thighs, Vegeta narrowed his eyes as he studied the fabric, noting how he could make out the slit of her nether lips through the fibers. He'd been set to do this for some time, he had his strategy ready, and he intended to stick to it. And still, he was taken aback by how hot this all was.

The saiyan had originally intended to rip her panties away as soon as he reached them, but they looked so coy as they smugly contained her secret treasure. Hidden, yet still so visible, it only enticed him even more. Curiously and defiantly, as if to prove that the confinement wouldn't keep him away, Vegeta didn't remove her underwear before planting his mouth on her sensitive core.

Bulma, who had been holding her breath as she waited in anticipation for what Vegeta was going to do, let out an instantaneous hiss. The saiyan noted this, but it wasn't what encouraged him to continue. Rather, it was the texture and taste of what he was experiencing that consumed his mind. Not having known what to expect, he was completely surprised. Something about this was just so exhilarating, and the feel of it on his lips immediately made him famished for more.

There was a dampness seeping through the fabric and onto his chin - and _oh,_ how he loved it when she got wet for him. It was enough of a turn on to feel it with his hands and the rest of his body - but on his _face?_ He was pretty sure he was seeing red with lust.

Or, at least, he _would_ have been, if his eyes had been open. But they were closed, and he only had his mouth to guide him as he pulled her closer in for more. The cloth twisted and tangled under the force of his teeth, and Bulma was gasping from the waves of his tongue. The more Vegeta got, the more his appetite grew, and he was pulling and nipping at her panties to suck as much taste through the cloth as he could.

"Holy-" Bulma was trembling from somewhere above his head. He was aware that she was rather enjoying this, and yet Vegeta was so focused on his own desires that her pleasure was merely an added benefit to this exquisite exploration. Finally, when he could take it no more, he gripped the cloth between his teeth and pulled, ripping it away like the rabid saiyan he was quickly becoming.

The Bluehead was gasping again, likely from surprise at his actions, but Vegeta gave her no time to settle before narrowing in on her exposed and inviting flesh. Now her body was fully his to take, now she could no longer receive protection from such irritating barriers made of such frilly cotton.

"Ah!" She choked, before cutting herself off. Her hands went to Vegeta's hair as his lips pressed into her silky folds, taking in what lay underneath and sucking it in between his teeth. Kami - what was this? This wasn't a lust he had grown accustomed to from his previous fucks with Bulma - this was something else! His tongue was awake and ravenous, his taste buds sending screams to his cerebrum to continue. Completely beside himself, he was going at her as if he'd never eaten before in his life, and there was no instinct beckoning him to hold back.

There was so much to discover, and the more his tongue touched, the more he wanted in return. This was his, wasn't it? His _right_ to feast until he was full! Why hadn't he done this sooner?! How many times could he have indulged in such a treat by now if he hadn't waited?!

The noises she made were so raw. Muffled as if she'd placed a pillow over her head, Bulma was still moaning loud enough for him to hear, coiling and bucking against his face. A low growl was humming from his own throat as he held the backs of her thighs and dipped his tongue into her entrance, where he normal would have been thrusting instead…

... It wasn't until the Bluehead started yanking at his hair did Vegeta snap out of his trance and realize how overcome he'd truly gotten. He opened his eyes for the first time and pulled back to look at her, seeing her flushed cheeks and heaving chest. "Careful." She breathed, meeting his gaze. It was clear from the look in her pupils that she'd already reached her peak - and yet he hadn't even noticed! She'd already explained to him before that she became extremely sensitive after such a thing - almost to the point of it being unpleasant. She always needed a few minutes to recover after an orgasm before he could touch her again without it making her flinch. And so Vegeta held back from licking her just one last time, instead opting to slide up her body to be eye level with her blue orbs.

Cheeks puffy and pink, her hair tangled and bushy from rolling her head around so much, Bulma was silently catching her breath as she returned the saiyan's gaze.

"Tell me when you're ready." He husked.

"My turn?" She breathed.

"No." His hand went to her lower stomach, as if threatening to touch her again…

"Fine then," Bulma replied. "Keep going."

He didn't have to be told twice. In an instant he was pulling his clothes off, kicking his pants furiously as if he was ready to destroy them. And then he was climbing over Bulma, grabbing her by the hips and positioning himself with her body. She was watching him with lidded eyes, still seeming to be recovering from her earlier orgasm. And Vegeta watched back, and he was shocked at how awestruck he became just in doing so.

It was hitting him that this might be the last time they would lay together like in such a way, those few seconds of anticipation that would build before finally commencing in their lustful dance. They might not ever do this again, and if they did it could easily be years... Vegeta, his mind locked on Bulma's ki, could feel her heart beating so hard with desire as he held himself above her. He'd always relished in sensing what she was experiencing during moments like these, taking in her euphoria at the same time that his own was building along with her.

He bit his lip, trying not to lose himself in the reality of the situation, and instead dropped his head to bury into her neck. Taking in a deep breath, wanting to memorize this exact moment, Vegeta inhaled the scent of her salty skin. His teeth sank into her flesh as his hips began to dip into her own, her warmth enveloping him as his erection found solace within her inviting core. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulder blades as she stretched to accommodate his size.

Pulling back so he could look her in the eyes again, Bulma gulped as she took in his expression. In that moment he was telling her everything she had been trying to learn for weeks. Everything that he had refused to express, which had made her feel so insecure. He'd been trying to hide it, but she could see it now that he was looking at her so longingly. He was going to leave, and yet he didn't want this any more than she did. As much as she yelled and pleaded that they stay together, and as much as denied her, Vegeta wanted to bring her just as bad as she wanted to go...

He was thrusting with more force now, his breaths becoming shallow with each buck of their hips. Bulma pressed a hand into his shoulder, trying to speak through her jagged gasps. "Wait... Vegeta... Wait."

"What?"

She pushed him harder, and this time he got the hint. The saiyan rolled off of Bulma, laying on his back while she climbed on top of him. He looked up at her - heated skin glistening with both of their sweat, her hair hanging down over her face as she positioned herself atop his member. She flipped her blue mane over her shoulder to clear it from her face, giving Vegeta a thoughtful look as she lowered herself down on him. The saiyan's hands went to her hips to guide her movements, and she swatted them away. "No!"

She wanted absolute control. Intrigued, Vegeta obliged, instead folding his arms under his head to get a better view as he peered up at her. Taking full advantage of Vegeta's submission, Bulma placed her palms against his chest as she began a steady rate. She could see in his eyes that he was enjoying this, and so she continued as eagerly as her energy would let her.

Bouncing breasts made his erection grow even more, and he couldn't peel his eyes from her body as she moved. Bulma noticed, and when she saw the strain forming on his cheeks that indicated his impending release, she spoke. _"Are you going to come back?"_

Airy and gasping, her voice was more seductive than she'd expected. Vegeta seemed to like this, for he threw his head back and groaned.

He wasn't answering her. Was he too lost in pleasure to understand her question, or was he actually onto what she was attempting? Bulma tried again. This time she swayed her hips in a circular motion, pressing a nail down into his erect nipple. _"Are you mad that we have to separate?"_

"Ah-" Vegeta was already groaning from the added stimulation, and when she asked this he let out a strained "Yes!"

And then, immediately after, he pushed her off of him. Rolling her to her stomach, Vegeta wrapped his arms around her waist as he propped her onto her hands and knees. Bulma gasped when he entered - for it was such a fast switch of position that she was still taken aback that this was even happening. Her whole body shaking, her breasts swaying as he slammed into her from behind.

He seemed to have been perfectly content with her riding him - so why the sudden move?

She knew it was because she'd gotten him - all he'd given her was a single word, and yet she had all the information he'd been trying so hard to hide. He had confirmed her new suspicions. He didn't like having to part ways any more than she did, but for some reason he didn't want her to know.

Yet she _did_ know, and even though what he was currently doing worked to distract her thoughts, she wasn't going to forget... Bulma moaned as he reached around and took hold of one of her breasts, his mouth finding her neck as he began to thrust even harder. She was being brought to the edge again, and the Bluehead was sure that he wasn't far either...

—

A sweaty heap of ripped clothing and limbs, the couple lay together on the messy bed hours later. Bulma was completely passed out in Vegeta's arms as he stared down at her, watching the features on her face as she slumbered. He had gone at her so ravenously, and he hadn't allowed them to stop until she grew so tired that she nearly fell asleep under him. The Bluehead had reached her peak two more times during their session, and Vegeta had held off from his own release for as long as he could. He'd wanted to prolong the experience, and he'd managed to hold off for hours. But still, the saiyan hadn't wanted this to end any time soon when he finally came, and he lamented the moment that they finally pulled apart.

Eyes glossing over her body as she continued dozing in his arms, Vegeta's pupils settled on the large bruise that was still actively forming across the arch of her neck. He'd always been a fan of tasting her there, but tonight he'd been a lot more aggressive with his actions. Small punctures indicated where his teeth had sank, and he'd sucked hard enough to break some of the vessels under the skin.

Smiling to himself, Vegeta resisted running a finger over the bruise. This would take months to heal, if not longer, and it would be very clear to Yamcha that Bulma was not his. That scarface could spend the rest of his life fawning over her, spoiling her and trying to win back her affection… But whenever Yamcha looked at her from now on, he would always remember seeing the Bluehead with the lovebite Vegeta had given her. He would remember who she'd bared a child with, and the Z-Fighter would know who she really belonged to.

Not only did she look so good in her exhausted state, but she _felt_ amazing, too. Aside from his own need for fulfillment and closure, their recent tumble had certainly worked in soothing Bulma's melancholy woes – just as Vegeta had known it would. Right now, he could feel the bliss of ease she was in as she slept through her afterglow, a sensation that he hadn't sensed from her for weeks. This was the first time she was resting so peacefully since arriving in West City, especially because he had just fucked every last ounce of energy out of her. She'd likely snooze well into the day, far after the sun rose from behind the clouds…

… By that time, he would be long gone, and she wouldn't be traceable even if he tried. He wouldn't be able to sense her reaction, and yet he already knew exactly what it would be, and he could already feel it...

… Kami, he couldn't take this.

Just thinking of such a thing made Vegeta want to defiantly hold Bulma tighter and refuse to leave - to put the trip off indefinitely and find all excuses to stay. And her aura was quickly doing it to him - her lingering happiness putting him in a calm enough state that he was sinking into the mattress with her… Thinking that it would be no big deal to hold off on his travels...

But that wouldn't do.

It _wouldn't_ work.

If she and him were going to have even a remote chance at living to see even the next year, he was going to have to leave. And yet, by doing so, he might never see her again…

By now it was undeniable that Frieza knew of his treason, and the tyrant would be out for his blood. The saiyan didn't know how the ensuing conflict would result. There was a chance that Vegeta would be able to twist and manipulate his way into convincing the lizard that he hadn't abandoned course, after all, and instead had encountered unexpected complications during his trip that set his schedule back. That, or he might fool his way into convincing the old fuck that he'd been simply doing research of valuable planets instead. If this convincing was successful, it would be months or even years before he got the Ginyu force off his ass enough to present himself with the opportunity to return to Earth.

And if bullshitting Frieza didn't work?

Well, Vegeta would be finding himself in a battle he might not be able to win. Perhaps with the disguising of his ki, combined with the invisibility system Bulma had installed on the ship, his trail wouldn't be intercepted at all. He'd make it to Namek, locate all of the balls, make his wish for immortality, kill Frieza, and then get back to Earth for a celebratory dance between Bulma's legs. Vegeta hoped this, he fancied the idea, but he didn't want to plan on it.

He had to go - before Frieza found him there on Earth. Before Frieza learned of Bulma…

In order for her to have the best chance to avoid prolonged torture, Vegeta had to go. He knew perfectly well that the Androids were still rampant, that she might not even live if he left her, but he was still doing her a favor by keeping her away from Frieza. He had to choose the better of evils, and he needed to keep himself from growing weak with his own wants. At that precise moment, the saiyan needed to halt the idea of staying before it had the chance to grow.

Closing his eyes, he pushed her out of his mind. Focusing instead on Gohan's aura that was wafting from inside the capsule house, Vegeta did all he could to rid himself of the Bluehead's invading ki. To clear his veins of the warmth that she was plaguing him of, to push away the feeling of her aura. And, after a few seconds, it worked. The pleasant sensation of her mood was no longer clouding his vision or blanketing his skin.

All he felt was nothing, and that was how it had to be.

Carefully sliding out from under the woman's clutches, Vegeta couldn't even bring himself to look at her one last time as he rose. He stood by the bed, his jaw clenched as he stared at his feet and waited to hear any indication that Bulma might be stirring from the movement. After 10 seconds passed without a sound, Vegeta carefully pulled his clothes on, grabbed the capsule containing the ship, and stepped upstairs. The farther he moved away from the bunker, the more he felt that a dark shadow was casting upon his back. A dreadful cloud that made his stomach churn, this was a feeling he had once been so accustomed to that it seemed normal, yet he hadn't encountered this in quite some time.

Alone…

He made it to the capsule house and nearly stepped inside, but he stopped himself jut as his fingers touched the doorknob. Gohan had sworn multiple times during their training sessions that he wanted to join in on this trip. He wanted to do his part in retrieving the Namekian dragonballs, to participate in the resurrection of his beloved mentor.

But did it really matter?

The boy was getting quite good, but he still lacked enough experience to smoothen the flaws in his technique. Was it necessary to drag him along on this course that would forever change his life? If he went, his prospects were as unlikely as Vegeta's. If Gohan stayed, he'd be a close comrade of Bulma's, and he'd be able to protect her better than Yamcha would - if he didn't lose control of himself, that is.

Vegeta sighed and stepped back.

Furrowing his eyebrows as he turned around, he extended his arm and threw the capsule out into the empty land ahead. The ship appeared with a distastefully loud pop, and the saiyan began to march for it. He was able to get halfway to the ship before something made him jump.

"Wait!" Gohan's voice suddenly erupted, causing Vegeta's jaw to tighten painfully at the abruptness of it. "Quiet, boy!" He hissed, spinning on his heel.

"What are you doing?!" The child continued, lowering his volume like Vegeta had ordered. He was standing at the edge of the house's small porch, glaring at Vegeta with disdain. "Are you already leaving? You didn't even tell me the ship was ready! And you told me I could come with!"

"I changed my mind."

"You can't DO that!" Without warning Gohan broke into a run, charging at Vegeta with all the speed his groggy feet could muster. Vegeta scowled and side stepped to avoid the boy's blow.

"Stop it."

"You told me-!"

"I have decided you will stay, do you understand? We will likely not return to Earth for years, if we don't face our death while gone! You will stay!"

"I don't WANT to, Mr. Vegeta!"

"You-"

"What do I have here?!" The boy shot, his prepubescent voice crackling with his pitch. "My entire family is dead! It's my fault Piccolo died! I've been training for this and have nothing else to do with myself! You can't just leave me here! I want to go and help!"

"Don't try me, boy." Vegeta growled. "I have made up my mind."

"You know what?" Gohan spat. "You told me my Dad was a saiyan! That means I am one, too!"

"You are a half-breed." Vegeta frowned, and Gohan snarled back. This was the first time the boy had stopped spouting, though, and the two stared at each other in the darkness of the stale night. The saiyan clicked his tongue, studying the boy's eyes, which were filled with so much hate.

The boy was really pissed, wasn't he? He truly and wholeheartedly wanted this. And it was true, he did have saiyan genes in his blood, and perhaps that was fueling his urgency to leave...

"Fine." Vegeta spat, kicking the soil. "Hurry up before I change my mind."

"I need to get my things. You didn't warn me we were going tonight."

"Pack lightly." Vegeta had his arms crossed. He was speed walking with the boy, wanting to expedite the process by grabbing the items with him rather than just waiting. He was ready to get things over with and leave this fucking planet as soon as possible, and the sooner Gohan was ready, the sooner they'd commence their journey.

They both disappeared into the capsule house, fishing blankets and outfits into their arms as they worked as quietly as possible. What surprised Vegeta was that Yamcha was passed out on one of the couches, and he didn't so much as flinch throughout the entire ordeal. Not even when Gohan, who was moving with too much urgency, stumbled and tripped over the coffee table and created a loud crash.

"Is he drunk?" Vegeta wondered out loud when he looked towards the Z Fighter and saw that the man was _still_ completely passed out.

"Is he _what?_ " Gohan replied.

"Nothing. Just be more careful. And hurry up."

"I'm ready, though."

"You are?" Vegeta looked down at the items that had gathered in his arms before glancing back at the boy. "Good. Come on. I want to be off this planet within the next five minutes."

They left the capsule house, and just as he did with Bulma, the saiyan could not bring himself to even give the main room one last look. Too many memories had been accumulated here in such a short span of time, and now he was going to have to live with them all. How had he let himself become vulnerable enough to get like this? In the beginning Vegeta had tried his damndest to stay detached, and yet he'd grown far too fond of the life he'd acquired on this unsuspecting planet.

He was feeling worse than he had in a very long time, and with each step closer to the ship he was fighting with his own urges to stay put. How frustrating it was that he wanted to throw all logic away and act purely on his desires. His legs were quivering with the desire to run downstairs and curl up against that Bluehead once again! He was having to fight his own body!

 _'One more day,'_ His inner voice was suggesting. 'You can put this off and stay for another day...'

And yet, as Vegeta already knew, he couldn't. With that, the infuriating sensation of dread was building with each meter he strode towards the ship. And it only grew when they entered, and Vegeta slammed the door shut behind them. His vision was slurred as he marched for the control center, not caring to give Gohan an introduction of the ship or let him process his surroundings. There would be time for such sentimental moments after they made it to space. "Prepare yourself!" Vegeta barked, as he threw himself on the captain's chair. "You will disguise your ki right now. We must keep it as low as possible throughout the duration of our trip so that we don't attract anyone."

Gohan didn't respond, but Vegeta could feel has he obliged. Suddenly his ki was so dim that the saiyan could barely make it out at all, and his eyes only narrowed as he followed suit and did the same. He listened as the boy scampered to a seat, and Vegeta was so eager to get started that he only growled before slamming his hand down on the ignition.

It happened so fast, and yet it felt like a stabbing eternity as the spaceship powered up and began to shoot into the sky. The vehicle rattled and shook as it moved, Vegeta's jaw tightening as his body adjusted to the change of pressure. This was far from his first trip into the abyss of the universe, and yet his heart was pounding with a nauseating anxiety that made his stomach twist…

… When they made it through the atmosphere and shifted into the weightlessness of space, the ship stabilized and suddenly things didn't feel as if they were moving quite so fast. Palms sweaty, Vegeta punched a few things into the control panel as he activated the light reflecting system that Bulma had designed. Once they were safely invisible, he then calculated Namek's coordinates through the navigation. Gohan was silent during all of this, and when he thought Vegeta was done he finally spoke. "Is it okay for me to get up and move now, Mr. Vegeta?"

"What?" The saiyan mumbled, not even looking over his shoulder. He was glaring at the distant stars that he could see from the monitors in front of him. Real time images that were being projected through a scope.

"Are we stable enough for me to move? I have to go to the bathroom."

"What!? Boy, didn't anyone ever teach you to relieve yourself _before_ commencing on a journey?" Vegeta didn't care to be speaking at all, and this petty conversation was only adding to his already shot nerves.

"You were kind of rushing me!" Gohan shot back. "When was I supposed to go?!"

The saiyan prince still hadn't ripped his eyes from the monitor, and he growled a deep rumble from the back of his throat. Gohan had been such a timid boy, but he seemed to be gaining more of a spine with each passing day. Perhaps Bulma's spoiled confidence had rubbed off on the kid. "Fine. Go. I'll be piloting for a while. Do what you will, but don't disturb me unless you encounter any _real_ problems."

"What about autopilot?" Gohan asked, but Vegeta could hear as his feet began to step towards the back of the ship. The saiyan listened to him go, not bothering to respond to the boy's rhetorical question.

The fact of the matter was that this ship really _did_ come equipped with autopilot, but Vegeta didn't care to take advantage of that yet. Right now his mind was racing, and manually steering the ship was all he could do to keep himself under control. It wouldn't be feasible to go train in the gravity room - he needed to keep his ki low, and as of right now, with how insane he felt, he'd probably lose control and blow this entire vehicle up if he went in there in order to release some of his pent up steam.

His body was tired, anyway. He'd easily been awake for over 24 hours at this point, and he'd exerted himself both from earlier training with Gohan and his time in bed with Bulma. He hadn't gotten any rest at all, and yet he was still too riled up to sleep. And so Vegeta concentrated on the only thing he could in the moment, and that was the ship's course.

Over time he heard Gohan moving about. At one point the boy stalked into the kitchenette, fished through the refrigerator for something to eat, and returned to his room with his arms full of food. Vegeta didn't so much as pull his eyes away from the monitor to glance at him. The pounding in his chest was still so stubbornly rampant, and it took all of his focus in order to prevent himself from tipping over the edge of what could easily become madness.

It seemed that the saiyan could sit there and spend the rest of his living hours trying to soothe himself into forgetting about the Bluehead. Even after all of his attempts, he could still hear her cries and pleads in the back of his ears. All of her begging was looping on repeat, and he'd give anything to make it stop replaying in his head…

How had he gotten himself in so deep like this? Vegeta had gone to Earth with the mere goal of having a good battle with a third class saiyan, and what had he accomplished? Never could he have predicted that he'd leave with so much angst!

There was no telling how much time went by that he sat glaring at the monitors. But when his eyelids got to a point that they wouldn't stop quivering from the strain of keeping his eyes open, and he caught himself falling asleep several times where he sat, Vegeta decided it was a good idea to finally get some rest. Pushing himself back from the captain's chair, the groggy saiyan dragged his feet across the main room.

At some point Gohan had slumped into the main room as well, and he was now sitting on the couch looking rather bored. Vegeta couldn't help but lazily wonder how long the boy had been there, but he didn't bother asking as he passed the kid without so much as missing a step.

So tired that he was stumbling like an unruly drunk, Vegeta made it to the door of his bedroom and grabbed the handle. He groaned - somehow feeling even worse now that he'd arrived at his destination. As he stood, his hand on the knob, he realized that this was going to be his first time climbing in bed without Bulma. He hadn't had to do such a thing in ages…

Resentful of how pathetic he felt, and somehow also in awe that he was actually experiencing such a thing, Vegeta grit his teeth. Before he met her, the task of going to sleep seemed so idle and mundane. Never before had he realized just how much of a grief it felt to be absolutely _alone_ , even though he had spent the majority of his life living that way...

' _Whatever',_ Vegeta thought. He'd force himself through this, and with a bit of practice he would adjust to this routine all over again…

Closing his eyes, he pushed the door open and clicked on the light. He was ready to sleep for an eternity, yet he still carried the burden of needing to change his clothes first.

… But Vegeta didn't quite make it to the dresser before his focus shifted…

_"There you are!"_

A familiar voice, the saiyan nearly screamed. He quickly snapped his eyes open, and all he made out was a blur of blue. The voice spoke again, an irritated group of words that made his stomach tighten, just as a pair of soft hands touched his chest.

"It took you long enough to come to bed! I was about to give up on waiting for you!"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, there it is! The long awaited moment you might have been hoping to see... Some of the scenes in this update took me days to write on their own. Please let me know what you think. :)


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